


Diamonds are Forever

by lyricalballads



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Decisions, F/M, Rick’s sister trope: but with a few twists, awkward family dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 55,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalballads/pseuds/lyricalballads
Summary: Philippa Graham is a typical American flapper, with bobbed hair, short skirts, and a taste for jazz and cigarettes. When she travels to Egypt to find her half-brother Rick O'Connell, who she's never met before, she gets swept into an exciting quest for treasure. But she soon learns that the path to riches isn't fun and games.
Relationships: Beni Gabor/Original Female Character(s), slight Jonathan Carnahan/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. A Glass of Scotch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on fanfiction.net from 12/21/2011 to 10/20/2012.

All the New York summers in the world couldn't prepare Philippa Graham for the heat of Cairo. As she made her way through the dusty streets, beaded handbag hanging from the crook of her arm, she was grateful that her hair had been bobbed ages ago, for the heat would have been downright unbearable if she had a heavy mass of hair weighing her down. She couldn't imagine how those stiff Victorians of her mother's time had survived with those long, voluminous skirts and those manes of hair all wound up around their heads, and thanked her lucky stars that she was living the prime of her life in the good old Jazz Age. If it wasn't for the current style of short skirts and bobbed hair, she would be positively dying as she trekked across Cairo and tried to avoid getting run over by carts, wayward animals, and the occasional stern British soldier.

But how quaint it all was! Like something out of a stage play or a novel, and Philippa looked with eager eyes upon the markets selling bright rugs and pottery. The way people dressed reminded her of costume parties she had attended back home, only her current surroundings were bound to be much more fun than a silly old party, as long as there was some way of avoiding the heat. Perhaps people went swimming in that big river that flowed across Egypt? Pity she hadn't brought anything suitable to swim in, but she was bound to find something at one of those little market stalls she kept passing.

She briefly stopped beneath a canopy to retrieve the address she had written down, and spent the next few moments frowning at it and wondering if she should ask for directions. Cairo was such a strange place, filled with such strange people, and she might never find her destination if she kept wandering about the city, though perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. There was so much to explore, after all, and who knew what sort of person this Rick O'Connell might be anyway? He may be her half-brother, but she had never seen the fellow in her life and he might turn out to be the worst sort of wet blanket, or worse.

Philippa grinned to herself beneath the canopy. Why shouldn't she have a little fun before resigning herself to family duty?

She might as well start by getting a drink. The best part about being in Egypt was that alcohol was legal, and Philippa was just itching to sit down and order a glass of liquor—real, actual liquor, instead of cheap gin mixed with half a dozen other things—and made her way to the nearest drinking establishment. Philippa may not have known much about Egypt, but she was an expert when it came to hunting out bars and followed a man in a cream colored suit into a lively looking place. Back in America, her favorite speakeasy had been raided by the police a few months ago, and she felt like she could breathe easily as she stepped into the bar and relished in the fact that she could do as she pleased, without worrying about all that Prohibition baloney that restricted her at home.

Of course, there _was_ a thrill in drinking bootlegged liquor, but the legal stuff was bound to taste better.

Philippa adjusted her cloche hat, which somewhat impaired her vision in the bar's dim atmosphere, and walked right into the man in the suit she had followed inside.

"Oh, pardon me, love," he said with an English accent. The owner of both the voice and the suit turned around to face Philippa, his blue eyes brightening with interest as he took in her appearance.

"No problem, dear," said Philippa. She thought he looked friendly and offered him a smile.

"I say, why don't I buy a handsome old girl like you a drink?" he said.

"Anything I like?"

"Anything in the world."

"Well lead the way, stranger," said Philippa, offering him her free arm. "I've been dying for a good drink."

She was pleased that the bar wasn't a seedy little dive, though some of the clientele looked a bit disreputable—the type who would steal the beads right off her neck without batting an eye—but her friendly stranger steered her away from these shifty individuals and procured two empty bar stools in the furthest corner. Philippa was glad to sit down after trekking across those hot streets and she may not have landed herself in the Ritz, but the bar was nice and cool and the Englishman seemed like a good fellow on the surface, which was plenty good enough for her.

"What'll you have, love?" he asked her.

"I could go for a whiskey," said Philippa.

"Is scotch all right?"

"Oh, yes," she agreed. "But how rude of you to buy me a drink without giving me your name first."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Quite right you are. I _have_ been rude, haven't I? Jonathan Carnahan at your service, and who might you be?"

"I'm Philippa," she said sweetly, sensing that this man could be great fun if she hung around him long enough. "Philippa Graham."

"I have a distant cousin named Philippa, but you're a good deal nicer looking than that old bat."

"It's really a horrible name, isn't it? My parents wanted a boy and planned to name him Philip, but when I came along they simply added a few letters and thought it suitable. Some nerve, huh?"

"I'd drink to that," said Jonathan. He raised his hand, realized it was empty, and chuckled at his own absent-mindedness. "But I'd need a drink first. Bartender, why don't you be a good chap and fetch us some scotch and soda?"

The bartender obliged Jonathan and took no time in sending two glasses of scotch and soda their way, and Philippa savored her drink, knowing that it had arrived in her glass through honest means instead of the shady work of gangsters. Though deep down, she supposed there was something oddly romantic about the gangsters who ran bootlegging operations throughout much of the United States. How exciting it must be to live a life outside the law, without a care in the world. Ever since she was a little girl Philippa swore that she would have fun with her life, and she may not be part of a bootlegging ring but she was bound to do _something_ exciting in this strange foreign city. All the girls and fellows she ran with back home were expecting long letters full of wild stories, and Philippa had no intention of disappointing them.

"Say, I could go for a dance right about now," she told Jonathan after most of the scotch in her glass had disappeared. "You dance at all?"

"Oh no, I'm not much of a dancer."

"Well that's no excuse. How about I teach you?"

"How about we get to know each other a bit first, hm? I'm bloody clumsy, even when I'm sober. Runs in the family, I suppose."

Philippa would have liked to dance out her restless energy, but she never could say no when a nice fellow asked a favor of her. "All right, then. What do you wanna know about me?"

"What a lively thing like yourself is doing in Egypt, first of all," Jonathan said with a chuckle.

"Now that's a story that'll take an hour to tell," said Philippa.

"Well I don't know about you, old girl, but I've got all the time in the world. Or at least until the next day, since my baby sister will positively kill me if I miss the boat we're supposed to get on tomorrow."

"It must be swell to have a sister," said Philippa, turning eager eyes upon him. "I wouldn't know since I haven't got any. Is she anything like you?"

"Evy and I are as unlike as can be, I can assure you of that. She saved some filthy bloke's life yesterday and now we're all headed off on an adventure, which means lots of tedious study for my sister and loads of treasure for yours truly here. If you're fond of books and history and dusty old geezers who have been rotting in tombs for thousands of years, you'll get along smashingly with Evy, and if not, well then there's always another drink to be had, eh?"

"I could certainly use another drink," Philippa said slyly.

That was reason enough for Jonathan to order another round of scotch, and while the bartender poured their drinks Philippa resumed their thread of conversation, strangely intrigued by this bookish sister of Jonathan's. "Doesn't your sister do anything fun? Dancing? Golf? Automobile driving? There's got to be _something_ , hasn't there?"

"Believe me, Philippa my dear, according to my sister those rotting old blokes _are_ a great load of fun. I keep telling Evy she'd loosen up a bit if she let herself be wooed by men who are actually alive, but she stubbornly prefers dead ones."

"Well there's no fun at all in a dead man. He can't dance with you, or buy you drinks, or hold a conversation. You know, I'm supposed to be meeting my long-lost brother right now, but I'm glad I ran into a fine fellow like you."

"Long-lost brother? Now there's a tale worth telling."

"Half-brother, actually. We had different fathers, you see, so he's Rick O'Connell instead of Graham."

Jonathan nearly choked on the sip of scotch he had taken. "Pardon me, but did you just say Rick O'Connell?"

"Yeah. Something special about that name?"

"Why, that's the name of the man my sister saved yesterday! I never would have guessed you're related to the filthy bugger. No offense, though let me take a look here..." Jonathan leaned over on his bar stool to peer into Philippa's face, squinting at her as he did so. "By Jove, I believe you've got his eyes!"

Philippa didn't know what to say. What _could_ she say after finding out that a stranger she met in a bar was acquainted with a brother she had never met, and that her eyes apparently matched those of her mysterious, unseen brother? She laughed off all feelings of nervousness—her usual response to uncomfortable situations—and took a hearty sip of her drink. "Well let's hope I'm the better looking sibling," she said, waving a flippant hand. "I've never met this brother of mine, so it'll be quite an adventure when I come knocking on his door."

"Well you _are_ lucky you ran into a fine fellow like me, my dear," said Jonathan. "This brother of yours is traveling with my sister and I tomorrow, so it's a spot of bloody good luck that you arrived here before our boat set sail."

Philippa didn't feel any personal attachment to Rick, never having met him in her life, but she knew her mother would be mighty upset if her long-lost son sailed away on some strange boat with a couple of English explorers. Philippa was supposed to bring Rick back to the States, after all, though personally she would rather stick around in Egypt for a while and see what a jolly time she could have. "Where's your boat headed?" she asked.

"Hamunaptra," Jonathan replied, dropping his voice as if the information was sacred. "We're off to find riches beyond your wildest imagining."

Well if Rick was headed to Hamunaptra, whatever that was, then Philippa would just have to come along. "Sounds like the bee's knees," she said, imitating Jonathan's hushed, excited tone. "What are you gonna do once you get rich?"

"What am I going to do?" Jonathan echoed. "My dear, what am I _not_ going to do? I'll settle in a posh house in London—no, no, a posh _mansion—_ and I'll drink only the finest liquor and have only the finest women on my arm. People will positively _beg_ to be invited to my dinner parties and all those beastly little chaps who wronged me in my school days will wish they had been a bit more civil to ol' Jonny Carnahan, that's for certain!"

"Sounds like you'll have a grand time of it. It must be awfully swell to be so rich that the world is nothing but a giant party. Say, Jonathan, will you do me a favor?"

"Another glass of scotch, eh? You're quite a force to be reckoned with."

"No, it isn't that. Will you be a dear and show me where to find Rick? I've got his address right here." Philippa fished out the address slip again and pushed it down the counter towards Jonathan, who grinned at her and took up the little paper so he could read it.

"So _that's_ where he lives when he isn't getting himself thrown into prison," Jonathan murmured as he studied the address. "I can take you there, darling, but only to the door, understand? Rick O'Connell and I, well... we have a bit of a history."

Philippa considered her first day in Egypt to be a success so far. She had managed to gain two free drinks and a guide to Rick's address, all in the course of less than an hour, and if she stuck close to Jonathan she might gain even more. Unable to suppress her eagerness for possible adventure, she followed Jonathan out of the bar and pestered him with questions about the mysterious Hamunaptra and why her brother was headed there. He responded jovially enough, telling her all about a strange puzzle box that contained a map to the lost city, which was rumored to contain infinite amounts of gold and treasure.

"Curious little thing, that box is," Jonathan said as he led her down the side streets of Cairo. "I found it on a dig down in Thebes, you know. Broke my back for a solid three hours with nothing but a single canteen of water and my trusty little trowel, and lo and behold! The little bugger showed up, and now my sister and I have got a ticket to endless riches."

"This map is the real thing?" Philippa asked. "It's really gonna lead you to some ancient city filled with treasure?"

"Now why would I lie to you? I'll prove it to you if we ever bump into each other again, you mark my words."

"Why don't you just show it to me now?"

"My sister's got the blasted thing in her scholarly, meticulous clutches, otherwise I would. I swear if I dare to breathe on it the wrong way, she'll bury me alive."

Philippa remained silent, unsure of how to respond to this mixture of sibling rivalry and affection. She never had such an experience herself, being an only child her entire life, and now she was about to become somebody's sister and had no idea how to do it. At last Jonathan took her to a nondescript little tenement building with small windows and mildewed walls, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, there it is. I'll be off now, if you don't mind."

"Thanks, darling," said Philippa, wishing he would stick around just a bit longer.

Jonathan took his leave of her, whistling to himself as he walked away, and Philippa pulled out the address to remind herself which apartment Rick lived in. It wasn't until she stood right in front of Rick's door that she finally noticed one of her bracelets was missing, and it was too late for her to chase after Jonathan and demand that he give it back.

"The nerve of him," Philippa fumed, and she took out her frustration by banging upon Rick's door.


	2. Lost and Found

The thrill of her current situation was enough to make Philippa forget about her stolen bracelet as she knocked on Rick's apartment door a second time. It was true that Rick's living quarters contained none of the jazz and sparkle Philippa was normally drawn to, but she supposed the dingy appearance lent it a quaint sort of foreign charm, just like much of the city. Besides, she had always wanted to know what it was like to have a sibling, and—

She certainly didn't expect her half-brother to look like _that_.

The man who creaked open the door was tall and strongly built, though that wasn't what startled Philippa. No, it was the long, matted tangles of hair that grew to his shoulders and the wild look in his eyes, and Philippa figured she had made a mistake. Perhaps she had accidentally knocked on the wrong door, or perhaps Jonathan thought it would be funny to lead her in the wrong direction.

"Who are you?" the man asked bluntly.

Lucky for her, Philippa knew how to deal with men. "Are you Rick O'Connell?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Philippa Graham."

"Yeah, I'm Rick O'Connell, but listen up, lady. If this is some clever plan to get me back into prison, I'm not going. You hear?"

Philippa was ready to dismiss this rude looking man, or at least give him her best haughty expression from under her cloche hat, when she noticed his eyes, bright blue in the same shade as her own. Jonathan had been right about the eyes after all, even if he _did_ swipe her jewelry.

"Well," said Philippa, offering Rick a half-smile instead. "If you _are_ Rick O'Connell, then that makes you my brother."

Rick's face betrayed his confusion. "Lady, you're pulling my leg. I'm not anyone's brother."

"Oh, yes you are, and I can prove it. Now be a dear and let me in, will you?"

Philippa didn't wait around for Rick to try arguing some more. She was tired of standing around, which a gentleman would have noticed ages ago, and she let herself into the apartment with the same wide-eyed curiosity she had worn out on the streets of Cairo. The place was small and cramped, consisting of only one main room with a bathroom and a tiny kitchen area, a most suitable place for a long-lost bastard to be tucked away in. Oh, how Philippa relished in Rick's scandalous origins. To think that her stiff, proper mother had such a tawdry past, and in such an exotic place like Egypt for good measure. Her mother didn't like Philippa bobbing her hair and dancing late into the night, but it was mighty hypocritical of her considering Rick's shameful existence and her equally shameful abandonment of him.

"So, uh, what's this about, exactly?" Rick asked, looking strange and ridiculous with his puzzled face and long, tangled hair.

"I told you already, silly. I'm your sister. Half-sister, to be exact, come all the way from America to fetch you back to our dear mother. I can show you the letter she wrote you if you offer me someplace to sit."

"You're telling me my mother, a woman who abandoned me before I could even talk, sent _you_ out here to fetch me to her? Is this some kind of scam or what?"

"Fine," Philippa said coolly. "Don't believe me, then. I'll just be on my way, and you'll never get to know if you really have a family or not." She prepared to sail out the faded door without another word, but Rick caught her by the wrist.

"Hey, wait. I'm not gonna let you slip away before you explain yourself."

Philippa knew she had won. She _always_ won when she used that particular trick. "All right, then," she said. "Show me a seat and I'll tell you what you want to know."

The only furniture in the room was a bed shoved against the wall, a nightstand, a chest of drawers, and a wooden chair. Rick offered her the chair, which wasn't quite as horrid as it looked, while he hovered awkwardly and watched her dig through her handbag. "Aha!" Philippa exclaimed as she pulled out an envelope bearing the words _To Rick O'Connell_ in a thin, flowery script. Her mother's handwriting, which reeked of Victorianism. Her mother wrote that letter out carefully before Philippa departed and insisted that it was for Rick's eyes only, but of course Philippa read it the moment she got onto the boat headed for Egypt. She never could resist.

"Here you are," she said, handing the letter to Rick. "The real deal. No forgeries."

He wordlessly accepted the envelope and Philippa suddenly wished she could have another drink. Or at least a cigarette. It wasn't every day she traveled to foreign cities and sat down with siblings she had never met, after all, and the whole thing was turning out to feel strange rather than exciting.

"Say, do you mind if I smoke?" she asked as Rick's eyes scanned the letter.

"No," he said absently.

Philippa fished out her packet of Lucky Strikes along with her cigarette holder, and soon she was puffing away while she gazed around the tiny apartment. She had noticed it briefly when she first entered the place, but now she was fully aware that rifles, ammunition, and various other weapons were scattered about the room, and she remembered that Rick had mentioned something about prison. Was he a gangster, perhaps? Or a bank robber? Philippa couldn't suppress the tiny grin that spread across her lips at the thought of her mother welcoming a criminal for a son. Now _that_ would cause quite a stir once they got back home.

Rick finished the letter and looked at Philippa, his blue eyes gazing into her own like a pair of mirrors. "So this is legit, huh? My mother— _our_ mother, I guess—suddenly feels bad for dumping me off at an orphanage and wants me back, just like that? After she ignored me my whole life? Would have been nice if she'd written to me earlier, don't you think?"

" _I_ haven't got a say in the matter," said Philippa, cigarette holder perched delicately between her fingers. "Why, I didn't even know you existed until a few months ago."

Rick folded the letter and stuck it in the front pocket of his shirt, staring hard at her all the while. "Well then, _sis_ , it looks like we've got some catching up to do. Why don't you start by telling me how you got here in the first place?"

"Well I didn't volunteer to be messenger girl for nothing," said Philippa. "You're lucky there's nothing I love more than telling a good story."

Rick sank down onto his lumpy bed, looking worn out with that wild hair of his, and Philippa knew he would have to chop that mane off if he wanted her to take him seriously. "Now where should I begin?" said Philippa. She took a drag on her cigarette and breathed a puff of smoke towards the yellowed ceiling. "I suppose you know after reading that letter that Mother was once called Catherine O'Connell, and that she had a bit of an _indiscretion_ here in dear old Egypt. After leaving you at an orphanage she went back to America, where she later married my papa and had yours truly here. So that leaves us with the story of how I got here in your lovely little apartment, doesn't it?"

Rick snorted at her exaggerated description of his apartment. "Yeah, I guess it does."

"Well if Mother wasn't bad enough with her long-ago indiscretion, Papa just had to go and misbehave as well. _My_ papa, of course, dear. Not yours. I haven't the faintest idea who your father is, I'm sorry to say, but perhaps Mother will tell you when you see her. Now where was I?"

"Your pop misbehaved."

"Oh yes, that's right. My darling old papa, a good Christian man who rarely swore, didn't smoke, and served faithfully in the Great War, took up company with an opera singer and walked out on the family. Mother took it badly. I guess you would call it a nervous breakdown, and after moping around for a while she finally told me about you, and insisted that she had to see you. Apparently she had been keeping track of you all along, even though she never wrote to you, and I suppose that after Papa left she didn't care so much about scandal anymore."

"If she misses me so much all of a sudden, then why didn't she come see me herself?" asked Rick.

"Oh, Mother is a terrible recluse. Never wants to go out anywhere or do anything exciting, and she got even worse after Papa ran off with the opera singer, so I offered to come out and fetch you home. It was quite a battle convincing her to let me come alone, too. Why, everyone knows that ladies don't need escorts these days."

"Well you're gonna have to go home empty-handed. I've got a promise to keep."

Philippa didn't bother hiding her delight. "Oh, I already know all about that. I bumped into a fellow who says he knows you, and that you're getting on a boat with him tomorrow to some place called Hama... Hamer..."

"Hamunaptra," Rick finished for her.

"Yes, that's right. Hamunaptra!"

Rick groaned from his place on the bed. "Can't trust anybody to keep their mouths shut. Did this guy have an English accent?"

"Yes, and he couldn't keep his hands to himself either." Philippa held up her wrist. "He managed to take my one valuable bracelet when I wasn't looking. I don't know how he managed it when I'm wearing all of this cheap costume jewelry, but somehow he grabbed the one bracelet that was made out of real jade!"

"Yeah, that sounds like Jonathan all right," said Rick. "Listen, uh, what was your name again?"

"Philippa."

"Right. Philippa. I gave my word to that Jonathan guy and his sister, so there's no way I'm not going with them tomorrow. Tell my, uh, mother that I'm sorry I couldn't come with you, but I've got business to take care of, all right?"

Philippa took a lazy drag on her cigarette, savoring what she was about to tell Rick. "That sounds like a nice plan, but I'm afraid I don't find it terribly appealing."

"Well you don't have much of a choice. I'll write her a letter and apologize."

"You won't have to do any such thing, and you don't have to worry about me going home empty-handed."

"And why's that?"

Philippa smiled. "I'll just come along with you to this Hamunaptra place, of course. And then when we get back, we can head off to America."

"No." Rick sat up straighter on the lumpy mattress, his hair falling in straggly curtains around his face. "Absolutely not. I may not know anything about being a brother, but no sister of mine, no matter how much of a stranger she might be, is going to that place."

"It's just a little treasure dig, isn't it? How bad can it be?"

"I _hope_ it's just a little treasure dig. There are horrors out there in that sand that you can't even imagine. Evil that _I_ can't even imagine, but I know it's out there. You're better off heading back home."

Rick's tiny apartment was warm and stuffy, and Rick himself was not the ideal brother Philippa had imagined, but she knew she couldn't just head back to America so soon. All those missed opportunities to see new things would kill her inside, and her distraught mother might make herself sick if she wasn't reunited with her abandoned son. Philippa wasn't sentimental like her mother, but she _did_ have a heart beneath her short dress and ropes of beads, and the last thing she wanted to do was make her mother ill.

"You know, I've never had a brother," said Philippa. "Or a sister, for that matter. I was really looking forward to getting to know you, Rick, and now I find that you're willing to toss me aside without considering my feelings at all. I don't know about you, but I think you're being a real wet blanket right now."

"I'm being reasonable. You weren't invited, first of all, and you'd need a barge ticket."

"Jonathan swiped my bracelet, remember? He'll _have_ to get me a ticket to make up for it. Besides, you could always use an extra person on this dig of yours, couldn't you? I'm no good with tools, but I'll be perfectly willing to carry the treasure for you once you've dug it up." Philippa winked at Rick and took another long, lazy drag on her cigarette.

"I'm not even gonna ask how you got to know Jonathan," Rick muttered. "But something tells me that if I say you can't come, you're gonna find your way onto that boat anyway."

"How right you are, Rick. I suppose we _are_ related."

"Yeah," he said, chuckling awkwardly. "I guess so."

"But Rick, if I _am_ going to come with you on this little adventure of yours, then you're gonna have to cut that hair. You look like a circus act."

"Hey, give me a break. I almost died yesterday."

Philippa's eyes landed on a particularly large rifle propped up against the wall and she wondered what sort of man her brother was exactly. "Well it's a good thing I arrived," she said airily, tearing her eyes from the weapon. "Because the first thing we're going to do is make you look presentable."

"Yes, ma'am," said Rick.

Philippa wanted to ask him a thousand questions—no, a _million_ questions—but first things first. That hair had to be tamed at whatever cost, and then hopefully she would have all the time in the world to learn more about this mysterious half-brother of hers.


	3. Optimism

Philippa checked out of her hotel bright and early the next morning and wondered what her friends back home would think if they knew she was about to travel down the Nile—or perhaps up; she could never remember which way that silly river flowed—and embark on a treasure-seeking adventure to a mysterious lost city. Oh, they would be so green with envy they would just die. Rick met Philippa in the hotel lobby, looking neat and trim thanks to the much-needed shave and haircut he got yesterday, and Philippa felt a strange sense of pride as she approached him. Now _this_ was the brother she had envisioned all along.

"I must say, Rick, you look mighty fine," said Philippa. "It's good to know I'm not related to some savage wild-man."

"Thanks a lot," said Rick. He still looked embarrassed and a little uneasy each time Philippa mentioned their relation to each other, but Philippa couldn't blame him. She was still getting used to the idea herself. "So, uh, have you got all your luggage ready?"

"Oh, yes," said Philippa. "My things are right here." She gestured at the pair of suitcases that had been hauled down to the lobby by a couple of hotel workers who didn't speak English. She and Rick stood there for a moment in awkward silence, unsure of what to say to each other, until Rick cleared his throat and gestured at her wrist, which contained the same number of bracelets as yesterday.

"You still upset over that thing Jonathan stole yesterday?" he asked.

"I suppose I'll find some way to get it back from him. We're going to be stuck on a boat together, after all."

"Nah, let me handle him. You're not the only one who's been robbed by Jonathan."

Philippa looked up into Rick's face, still a bit startled over how much his eyes resembled her own, and wondered if having an older brother would be a blessing or a curse. "Well in that case, let's hit the road," she said, slipping back into her usual playful good humor. "I suppose Jonathan thought that bracelet was fine payment for the drinks he bought me, but he won't be getting off _that_ easy."

Her lively spirits soon died down as she got into a cab with Rick and sat beside him in the backseat, silent as the vehicle rumbled down the streets of Cairo in the direction of the port. She realized right then and there that her brother—and how strange it was to consider him her brother—was not a talkative man and that it would take a whole lot of work to get him to open up. After making sure that Rick had his hair properly trimmed yesterday, Philippa went her separate path and spent the remainder of her first day in Cairo alone, getting to know the vicinity that surrounded her hotel. After eating dinner and exploring some of the market stalls, she retired to her room and wrote letters to her friends back home, then had a drink at the hotel bar and read for a while before going to bed.

And now she would be stuck with Rick in close quarters for God only knew how long, but at least he seemed adventurous. Philippa knew her situation could have been worse. She could have been unlucky enough to have a complete bore for a brother, or a stiff prude, or even a complete simpleton. She may have known Rick for less than twenty-four hours, but it was long enough to see that he was none of these things, and judging from all the guns he had packed he was at _least_ a little bit dangerous.

Philippa probably wouldn't be bored if she stuck to Rick, that much was certain. And she couldn't deny that the prospect of treasure was _very_ alluring.

When the cab arrived at the port, Rick got out first and slung his heavy looking gun carrier across his back, as calmly as if he hauled weapons around every day of his life. And perhaps he did, for all Philippa knew. The moment she stepped out she heard a whistle in the distance, reminding her of the boat she had taken to Egypt, and a small twinge of guilt tugged at her when she remembered her mother, who was waiting back home. She and Rick were supposed to be on a different boat entirely, headed to America, not traipsing off to some hidden city in the desert, but surely Philippa's mother—and Rick's too, she supposed—would understand the importance of this trip if Philippa brought back a whole sackful of gold with her. Long-lost sons were a nice enough prize, but they were even better when they came with free gold.

The sun shone as hotly as yesterday, beating down upon her with its bright, unceasing glow, and Philippa quickly pulled her hat over her short brown hair, grateful once again that fashion called for bobs instead of long tresses. "Gee, it's a damn good thing I've suddenly got a big, strong brother to help me out," she said, gesturing at her two suitcases. "I would never be able to carry any of this myself."

Rick blinked, unsure of whether she was joking or not. "Well..."

"Only kidding, dear," she said, as if Rick was one of her chums back home instead of an almost-stranger. "I'll take one suitcase and you can handle the other, can't you?"

"Sure," said Rick, looking slightly less awkward.

As Philippa picked up the lighter of the two suitcases, she found that teasing Rick was one of the only ways she knew how to deal with him. He seemed so serious, and he was still such a stranger, and Philippa had learned from the dozens of parties she had attended that a joke was always the best way to break the ice. She hoped Rick would turn out to be the sort of man who came off as rather taciturn, but loosened up once he had a couple of drinks in him. And Philippa _did_ intend on Rick drinking and enjoying himself while they were on that boat; the poor fellow clearly hadn't had any fun in a long time, if the previous state of his hair was anything to go by.

The port was crowded, full of rattling carts drawn by pack animals and dozens upon dozens of people chattering in Arabic. Philippa stuck close to Rick, grateful for his height so she wouldn't lose him in the crowd, and held tight to her suitcase in case some lowlife decided to snatch it. Cairo was not a glamorous place, that was for sure, and years of living in New York had taught her that shifty looking individuals were usually just as shifty as they looked.

Of course, that didn't stop her from getting her bracelet swiped by Jonathan, but it wasn't her fault he had been so friendly.

"Well, there they are," said Rick, nudging her lightly with his elbow.

Philippa looked straight ahead and discovered Jonathan standing not far from the barge, wearing an explorer's hat that looked like it belonged at a costume party. Standing beside him was a dark-haired woman who could only be his sister, and Philippa noticed that Evelyn Carnahan carried two sizable suitcases while Jonathan carried nothing at all. She wasn't terribly surprised.

"I still say I'll believe it when I see it," Evelyn was saying. "You saw the state of the man. I doubt he's got any family at all, let alone a sister who looks like something out of an American magazine, as you put it."

"Oh, Evy, just because I have a _bit_ of a tendency to stretch the truth now and then doesn't mean I'm always full of poppycock," said Jonathan.

"Well you _did_ lie to me about the puzzle box."

"My version makes a much better story than the truth, that's all."

"My point exactly, Jonathan."

Rick approached the pair of siblings, Philippa not far behind him. "Sorry to interrupt," said Rick, not sounding sorry at all.

Evelyn stared up at Rick, as taken aback by his appearance as Philippa had been after Rick's haircut and shave. "Oh. Hello." She noticed Philippa and frowned a bit. "And who is this?"

"Philippa Graham, Rick's half-sister," said Philippa, stepping forward. "I know I wasn't invited, but it's really a long story and we can save time if I tell it to you on the boat, won't we?"

"Philippa," Evelyn echoed, glancing at Rick in mild bewilderment. The name that always sounded hopelessly boyish to Philippa's own ears sounded soft and feminine when spoken with Evelyn's voice.

"Yeah, it _is_ kind of a long story," Rick said with a shrug. "But there's no getting rid of family, as I'm sure you know."

Philippa noticed that Jonathan had backed away from the group, standing off to the side with his hat pulled down low to shield his face, as if he could avoid her notice. "Why, hello Jonathan!" Philippa said loudly, waving a hand with false enthusiasm. "How lovely it is to see you again after those drinks we shared yesterday, though I'm afraid I lost one of my bracelets after we parted ways. Perhaps you've seen it? It's made out of _real_ jade."

"Can't say that I've seen it, love," Jonathan replied breezily, as if Philippa's words carried no importance at all. "You want to be careful in Cairo. Thieves in every corner, just waiting to steal the clothes right off your back."

Evelyn's expression turned to puzzlement, with a hint of concern. "How exactly did you two meet?"

"Oh, we only met briefly," said Jonathan. "Met her in a bar, you see. I even did my Good Samaritan duty by escorting her to her brother's home when she asked for directions. Nice girl, though I never expected I would actually see her again."

"Which is why you found it perfectly acceptable to steal from me, isn't it, darling?" said Philippa. "And you sounded quite enthusiastic about seeing me again, too. Never imagined you would have to return that silly old bracelet, did you?"

All eyes were fixed firmly upon Jonathan, who looked as if he would love to disappear into thin air. "You know, Jonathan, I'm pretty disappointed in you," said Rick. "Bad enough to steal from a guy, but then to steal from his sister too? Bad manners, if you ask me."

"Jonathan, I dearly hope you return whatever it was you took from this woman and apologize," Evelyn added.

"Yes, well, I would hand over the bloody thing if I actually _had_ it," said Jonathan. "Devilishly hard to hold onto a piece of jewelry like that."

"Oh, you're full of baloney," said Philippa. "I know you've got it."

"I _did_ have it, I'll admit."

"Where is it now?"

"Well, there are certain matters in this world that only a man would understand, Philippa my dear. When a man gets into a spot of trouble, you see, he has to take whatever opportunities he can find into order to get out of it, and well..."

"Let me guess," Rick broke in. "You sold off the bracelet to pay gambling debts."

Philippa expected Jonathan to deny it, but he broke into a guilty smile. "Yes, well, a couple of fellows have been hounding me for weeks. Won't this little trip make up for it, though? There are bound to be scores of bracelets out there in the sand, and made out of real solid gold, no doubt. You'd like a nice gold bracelet, wouldn't you, Philippa?"

"Sure I would," Philippa admitted.

"Smashing, then! All is forgiven, old girl?"

Perhaps it was the promise of riches out in the desert, or perhaps it was Jonathan's rather pathetic charm, but Philippa couldn't stay annoyed over the bracelet. It wasn't a priceless heirloom, after all, and soon she would replace it with something much more grand. "Of course all is forgiven, dear," she said, while Rick rolled his eyes nearby. "You're not such a bad egg deep down, as long as you don't pull any tricks like that again."

Evelyn, on the other hand, didn't look so forgiving and narrowed her eyes at Jonathan, every inch the proper, responsible sibling. "Well now I see how you spend your time when you're not sneaking around the museum, playing with the corpses. I ought to have begged the curator to give you a job in the library as well."

"Evy, you know I don't care much for reading, unless it's a pub menu," said Jonathan.

"Exactly. You would have been bored enough to fall asleep and stay out of trouble for at least five seconds."

Philippa decided that she liked Evelyn Carnahan. Her clothes may have been a tad too sensible for Philippa's tastes, and she may have come off as slightly condescending at first, but she was witty and unafraid to speak her mind, traits that Philippa always admired in other people. She also seemed to have lots of experience at managing her brother, an example that Philippa could definitely learn from since she was still brand-new to the sibling game. If only her prim and proper mother had been willing to acknowledge Rick years ago; perhaps he would have been a fantastic brother, the kind who doted upon his darling younger sister and—

Philippa took one look at Rick and held back a chuckle. She couldn't see him in that role, no matter what the circumstances.

Rick looked back at her, his blue eyes taking her in as if seeing her for the first time. "Right, we need another ticket," he said. "Jonathan, would you mind being useful and doing the honors?"

"No, he wouldn't mind at all," Evelyn spoke for him. "You wouldn't mind being useful for once, would you, Jonathan? I promise it won't hurt you."

Jonathan heaved a self-pitying sigh and adjusted his explorer's hat so that it no longer fell in his eyes. "Very well. One barge ticket, coming right up."

As Jonathan walked off to procure the requested ticket, Evelyn moved a bit closer to Rick. "She really is your sister, I hope?" she asked him, nodding her head towards Philippa. "Women acquainted with my brother tend to be... disreputable. Not that Philippa isn't a lovely girl, because she certainly is, but if you knew Jonathan as well as I do—"

"Hey, relax," Rick cut in. "I'm about eighty percent sure she's my sister, and if it turns out she's not, we can always feed her to the crocodiles."

"Now _that_ sounds like a good time worth having," said Philippa. "But really, Evelyn darling, I promise you that Rick and I are related. You'll hear the whole story once we're on board."

"I do apologize," said Evelyn. She peered into Philippa's face, much the same way Jonathan had when Philippa met him yesterday. "You and Rick look _somewhat_ alike, if you look closely."

"Well, we've got three days on that boat," said Rick. "Plenty of time to get to know each other, I guess."

Plenty of time, indeed. Philippa had grown rather tired of boats after her trip to Egypt, but she supposed she could survive an extra three days on the water. There would be treasure at the end of the voyage, after all, if they were lucky enough to find it, and Philippa was feeling mighty optimistic.


	4. Taste of Home

"Remind me again _how_ exactly you met my brother," Evelyn said as she led Philippa into the cabin they would share.

Rick had already hauled their trunks into the small room and left the two of them to "get acquainted," and Philippa looked about, taking in the mirror, small table, and closet area that reminded her of the rather cramped hotel room she had occupied in Cairo. At least she would have some decent companionship this time. "Well, dear," she said, smiling at Evelyn, "first you'll have to tell me how you met _my_ brother. He was terribly vague on the details."

"I haven't got all the details myself," Evelyn admitted. She had lifted one of her trunks onto the bed and sorted through its contents, forgetting all about the wide-brimmed hat that was still perched upon her head. "This may be a bit of a delicate subject for you, considering your relation to Rick, but he was in prison when we were introduced. Quite _rudely_ introduced, I must say. No offense, of course," she quickly added.

"What on earth was he in prison for? Is he a gangster?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, but according to the prison warden—you met him on the gangway; horrid little man, if you ask me—Rick was just looking for a good time, whatever that means. I do hope he makes good on his word and takes us to the actual location of Hamunaptra."

"This Hamunaptra place must be the cat's pajamas, considering how badly everyone wants to get there," said Philippa, watching Evelyn sort through tools whose functions she could only guess at. "Are you after treasure too, like that brother of yours?"

Evelyn looked up from her luggage, brightening up considerably. "Treasure of a different sort," she replied, changing her tone to one of awe. "An ancient book buried deep beneath the sand, lost for untold centuries."

"You like to read, then?" asked Philippa.

"Oh, yes. So much, in fact, that I work as a librarian in Cairo's Museum of Antiquities. Are you a reader yourself?"

"I just finished _The Great Gatsby_ by F. Scott Fitzgerald. His way of writing is just... _delicious_ sometimes, like savoring a bite of cake. I positively devoured his short story collections when a friend introduced me to them, and naturally I had to move on to his novels."

"It sounds perfectly lovely," said Evelyn. "I was never one for novels, though, even when I was a girl. History has always had a hold on me, as if I actually _lived_ in the past and those old books in my father's study were calling me home as I was growing up. You must think I sound off my rocker, as my dear brother would say, but that's the only way I can describe it."

Philippa _did_ find it strange, but only because she couldn't comprehend why anyone would dwell upon history and dusty old dead men. Philippa preferred to live in the immediate present, without looking forward or backward, but she couldn't bring herself to admit this to Evelyn. Somehow, in a rather unsettling way, she had a feeling that Evelyn was much more intelligent than she could ever hope to be, and that anything Philippa said would sound hopelessly silly in comparison.

Philippa, who normally had no self-restraint, had never experienced this feeling before and had a sudden need for a cigarette.

"Oh, no, you're not off your rocker at all, darling," she said in response to Evelyn's comment. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really must go on deck for a smoke. I become very dull when I haven't had a cigarette."

"Tell my brother to keep out of trouble if you see him," Evelyn requested.

Philippa promised she would and exited the cabin, her beaded handbag swinging from one arm. She wondered where Rick had gone, then decided that any conversion between them was bound to be awkward and headed for the deck, eager for a nice view of the Nile. She had never given much thought to nature before, preferring the indoors of nightclubs, theaters, and dance halls, but as she stepped onto the wooden deck and looked out at the Nile, she decided that Egypt wasn't such an unglamorous place after all. She felt strangely at peace standing at the edge of the deck, one hand resting upon the railing, and decided that nothing could possibly go wrong in a place like this.

It didn't stop her from wanting a cigarette, though.

Philippa had pulled out one of her Lucky Strikes, along with her cigarette holder, when a pair of booted feet came tramping along the deck. _Three_ pairs of booted feet, accompanied by male voices.

"How do ya know he ain't gonna rob us blind and leave us out in the middle of the desert? I've said it before and I'll say it again; I don't like the looks of the little bastard."

"You don't like the looks of nobody, Daniels, and that's a fact. I don't trust Gabor further'n I can throw him, but he ain't gonna screw us when there's treasure ahead."

"Hell, we probably won't even have to pay him if there's enough gold down in Hamunaptra."

"Damn straight, Burns. Ya see, Daniels? Gabor'll forget all about the payment soon as he lays eyes on that treasure."

Philippa forgot about her unlit cigarette and let it dangle between her fingers as she listened to the three men. They clearly weren't from New York, judging from their accents, but she knew they were American and tilted her head towards them with interest, watching her fellow countrymen approach her end of the deck.

"Well hello there, little lady," said the blonde one, giving her a rakish smile as he drew up alongside her. "Need a light?"

"That would be swell," said Philippa, offering out her cigarette.

"I'll be damned," said the dark-haired one. "We got ourselves a female Yank on board."

"Been too long since we've seen one of them," said the one with the glasses.

"What's your name, missy?" the blonde asked, lighting Philippa's cigarette with a match that came out of his pocket.

Philippa couldn't believe her good fortune as she took a drag through her cigarette holder. Three Americans, all to herself! She introduced herself gladly and learned that her new companions were a trio of treasure hunters named Henderson, Daniels, and Burns. When Burns happened to mention Hamunaptra as their destination, Philippa felt the usual twinge of curiosity that arrived each time she thought of the mysterious city, and she stopped smoking her cigarette, letting her hand drop down to the deck railing.

"Hamunaptra?" she echoed. "Have any of you been there before?"

Daniels snorted. "Well we'd be filthy rich if we _had_ been there, wouldn't we?"

"Nah, we ain't ever been there," said Henderson. "Got ourselves a man who has, though."

"Is he here on board?" asked Philippa. "Can I meet him?"

The three Americans all looked at each, smirks etched across their faces. "You don't wanna meet Beni Gabor, little lady," said Henderson. "He ain't as dashing as any of us, for one thing."

"Yeah, and the longer you listen to him talk, the more you wanna put a gun to your head," said Daniels. "Why don'tcha have a drink with us? This sun's gettin' in my eyes and if I don't get under some shade soon I don't know _what_ I'm gonna do."

Philippa accepted the offer of drinks and followed them to the bar area, keeping her eyes open for a glimpse of Rick or Jonathan, just in case they wanted to join her. Lord knew that Rick could certainly use a drink or two, but she didn't see him anywhere and put him out of her mind as soon as she sat down, determined to have a good time. She had done her duty by finding her brother, after all, and why shouldn't she take it easy and reminisce about the good old United States with her fellow Americans?

Once Burns had finished polishing his glasses, he ordered a round of four highballs and took a seat beside Philippa, who continued to smoke her cigarette through her long holder. "So, uh, what part of the States are you from?" Burns asked.

"New York City," Philippa replied.

"I always wanted to see New York. What's it like?"

"Oh, it's a treat. Always something to do, people to see, fun to be had. I must say, Egypt is mighty nice, but I miss going for strolls in Central Park and seeing movies at the cinema. Buster Keaton is a real scream, isn't he?"

"He sure is," Burns agreed.

"Hey, Burns, quit flirtin' with the missy," Daniels interrupted. "Your drink's here."

An Egyptian waiter in a striped uniform arrived at their table with a tray in his hands, presenting their drinks without a word. As soon as Henderson had his highball he raised his glass in the air, grinning at his companions. "Here's to good old-fashioned whiskey! Ain't nothin' better than gettin' as drunk as I please in broad daylight."

"Yeah, if there's one thing I don't miss about the States, it's Prohibition," Daniels added darkly.

"Amen to that," said Philippa.

She lost track of how long she sat there drinking and talking with the Americans, but time passed in a beautiful haze and she felt like she was home again, enjoying herself with her dearest friends after a round of bootlegged cocktails. She wondered if Doris had sent that lousy fellow packing, the one who wouldn't stop sending her flowers in the middle of the night and playing the banjo outside of her window. Boy, was he a pain! And she wondered if Frank had gotten his automobile fixed—the poor fellow ran right into a tree after a night at the movies—and if Millie ever took up golf the way she had been planning to for ages.

She couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces when she came back laden with Egyptian treasure, like a foreign princess out of a novel.

She was pleasantly buzzed when she heard a familiar voice over her shoulder, drawing her back to the time of the present. "What's this, eh? Dear Philippa sitting alone with three strange men. Tsk tsk, what would your brother have to say about this?"

"Why hello, Jonathan," said Philippa. "Where's Rick?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Jonathan. "Polishing his weapons in his cabin, no doubt. Care to introduce me to your new mates here?" He eyed up the alcoholic beverages that sat upon the table, which didn't go unnoticed by the Americans.

"You want some booze, you're gonna pay for it, Brit," said Daniels.

"And how do you know the missy here?" asked Burns.

Jonathan pulled up a spare seat and sank comfortably down upon it, as if he had been invited to do so. "Well we happen to be traveling together, my good gents," he said. "Off to Hamunaptra, City of the Dead and all that."

"Well ya never mentioned _that_ , little lady!" Henderson told Philippa. "Looks like we got ourselves some competition here, boys. Good thing we got a man who's been to Hamunaptra, eh?"

"So do we, as a matter of fact," said Jonathan, drawing himself up proudly. "He happens to be Philippa's brother, for good measure. Rather serious sort of bloke with an unfortunate tendency towards violence, but a good fellow all the same."

"Looks like you _do_ have competition, boys," Philippa added.

"Yeah, well I bet ya don't have an Egyptologist like we do," said Henderson. "Or a whole team of Egyptian diggers. Cost a pretty penny to hire 'em all too, but the treasure'll make up for it a thousand times over."

Jonathan rested his hand upon Philippa's shoulder, giving it an urgent little squeeze. "Yes, well, Philippa and I had better get back to our cabins to bemoan our lack of diggers. You have a fine day, old chaps."

Confused, Philippa grabbed her drink and allowed Jonathan to steer her away from the bar area, managing to put her cigarette out on the deck railing as she passed it. "What did you drag me out of there for?" she asked.

"Best if we warn Rick and Evy about that other team. My word, did those Americans really claim to have a man who's been to Hamunaptra?"

"Sure, that's what they said. Don't you believe them?"

"My dear girl, you forget who you're talking to. I _invented_ the art of stretching the truth, but I suppose we'll have to see this guide of theirs in order to believe it, eh?"

Philippa nodded in agreement and took a sip from her nearly-finished highball, still walking beside Jonathan across the deck. She didn't spill a drop, thanks to practice and experience. "What were you up to when you ran into me back there?" she asked.

"Oh, I was hoping to come across a gorgeous single woman with piles of money for me to marry into," Jonathan said. "No such luck, I'm sorry to say. Unless _you_ happen to be an heiress to millions, or even billions perhaps? We never discussed your financial state, did we?"

"No millions or billions, I'm afraid," Philippa replied.

"I see proposing spontaneous marriage would be out of the question, then."

"What do you want to marry an heiress for, anyway? Aren't you gonna find endless amounts of treasure out in that desert?"

"One can never have too much money, Philippa darling," Jonathan said wisely. "The blasted stuff has a bad habit of disappearing, you know. You think you've got plenty of it, until you wake up one morning with a knife pressed against your throat because some shifty fellow at the local pub has kept a record of your debts, and well... It's not that I'm speaking from experience or anything. That would be silly."

Philippa didn't believe him, but chose to say nothing. Everybody had their faults, after all, and none of it would matter once they were all rich.


	5. High Stakes

Rick wasn't thrilled that another team was headed to Hamunaptra, but he was even less happy with the fact that Jonathan and Philippa had told the Americans they were headed to the lost city as well, and that Rick was leading them. It didn't seem like such a big deal to Philippa; what harm could it possibly do if everyone on the boat knew where they were headed? And besides, what was wrong with some healthy competition? Philippa found herself alone with her brother after Jonathan wandered off to find a drink, and the two of them loitered in the cabin that Rick and Jonathan shared, attempting to make awkward conversation.

"Sorry we spilled the beans about Hamunaptra," Philippa began, wanting more than anything for Rick to lighten up a bit.

Rick looked out of place in the small cabin, like a caged bear at the zoo, and he ran a hand through his tousled hair before sending a reserved half-smile in Philippa's direction. "Yeah, well, the other team would have found out sooner or later. The thing that bothers me is that these Americans say they've got a guide who's been to Hamunaptra. They ever mention this guy's name at all?"

"Let me see... Maybe it was Beni something?" said Philippa, thinking back to her conversation with the Americans. "I can't remember the last name."

"Beni Gabor," Rick murmured to himself. "Looks like my old buddy is up to his usual tricks. I might have known."

"Wait, you know him?"

"We were in the French Foreign Legion together three years ago. That's how I ended up at Hamunaptra the first time."

Philippa couldn't remember what she was doing three years ago, or even the year before for that matter. Everything blurred together in a never-ending string of amusements, and here Rick was, standing before her with experiences she couldn't even imagine. "What's so scary about Hamunaptra, anyway? Sounds to me like nothing but a whole lot of sand."

"I thought so too, until the sound of thundering hooves and gunshots gave me a wake-up call. You don't realize how mortal you are until you run through the desert, dodging armed horsemen, and find yourself with nowhere to turn. I don't know what happened, but some kinda sandstorm started up and spooked the riders, and next thing I know I'm the only survivor after my whole damn garrison got wiped out. Well, except for Beni."

"And how'd that Beni fellow survive?"

"I told him to get to safety, so he did. Without me. Looks like ol' Beni and I are gonna have a fun reunion when we run into each other."

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, still unable to banish the awkwardness that occurred each time they saw one another, and Rick spoke up again, sounding rather embarrassed. "Look, uh, just to warn you right now, I'm probably not gonna be the best brother in the world. It's bad enough that I'm letting you tag along on this trip."

"Oh, no, a terrible brother would have sent me packing right away," Philippa assured him. "Besides, I don't know any more about this sibling thing than you do, remember?"

Rick didn't looked reassured. "Yeah, well try to stay out of trouble, okay?"

"You sound a bit like my mother. _Our_ mother, I mean," said Philippa. "Dear me, I don't think I'll ever get used to saying that."

"Join the club," said Rick.

"Oh, how selfish of me! I just remembered that I've got a picture of her here in my handbag. Would you like to see it?"

Rick's sarcasm quickly dissipated. "Yeah. Sure."

Philippa dug around in her handbag, pushing aside her cigarettes, cosmetics, and spare coins until she found the photograph of her mother. It was an older picture, taken several years previously, which Philippa had brought for the specific purpose of showing Rick, and she handed it to him rather guiltily. "Well, there she is. Catherine Mary O'Connell Graham. I ought to have given it to you earlier."

"Nah, it's fine," said Rick. He studied the picture with the same quiet concentration he had showed when reading the letter Philippa gave him yesterday, and Philippa may not have been looking at the picture but she knew exactly what Rick was gazing at. Her mother's light brown hair, piled up on her head in that tiresome old-fashioned style, the simple rope of pearls around her neck, and her calm blue eyes all looked rather flat in the black-and-white photo, but Philippa supposed Rick would be seeing the real thing soon enough.

"You can keep it if you want," she said.

"You sure?" asked Rick.

"Of course. You need that old photograph more than I do."

Rick hesitated, then slid the picture into the pocket of his shirt, showing an unusual amount of care that wasn't present when he handled his weapons or moved luggage around. Philippa was beginning to see that Rick was not a man who liked to talk about himself, but he did value the important things, even if he wasn't willing to admit it out loud.

"Thanks," Rick murmured, trying to look as if he didn't care as much as Philippa suspected he did.

She liked to think that maybe the two of them were starting to bond, just a little bit.

The rest of the day passed luxuriously and Philippa idled away her time by reading a novel on deck, eating lunch with Rick and the others, helping Jonathan harass the prison warden, and trying to learn a few words of Arabic from the barge captain without much success. By the time the sun went down she found herself back in the company of the three Americans, who invited her and Jonathan for a game of poker. At first they played for poker chips, which suited Philippa just fine, since she hadn't thought to bring her handbag out of the cabin with her, but Daniels soon grew bored and demanded they raise the stakes and start betting with cash.

"Let me run down to my cabin really quick," said Philippa, rising from the table. "You boys don't start without me, all right?"

"Hurry back, love," said Jonathan. "I feel a burst of good luck coming on and I don't want to lose it."

"In that case, take your time!" Henderson called after her.

Philippa walked at a brisk pace down the deck and into the hall where the cabins were located. She knocked softly upon the door, expecting Evelyn to answer, but when nobody arrived Philippa let herself into the cabin, making her way towards her handbag hanging from a hook on the wall. That was when her eyes fell upon the little circular table that sat in the room, though it wasn't the table that caught her interest. It was the strange little artifact—the puzzle box, as Jonathan had referred to it—sitting beside an equally curious map, and Philippa forgot all about her bag as she bent down to take the box into her hands. She didn't understand what it was exactly, but it entranced her like a shiny piece of jewelry or a beautiful note of music, and she knew that an object like this would make the game _much_ more interesting for certain. Surely Evelyn wouldn't miss the puzzle box if Philippa borrowed it for a while, would she?

After taking her bag from off the hook, Philippa headed back to the poker table with the box clutched in one hand, feeling a bit like a child who had taken something rare and precious from her mother's bedroom without asking for permission, but like a child, she was thrilled at the sheer naughtiness of it.

Burns stopped polishing his glasses and grabbed the deck of cards. "Let's play some poker."

And play they did. Jonathan was the most enthusiastic of the five, though funnily enough he lost most of his money straightaway, and Philippa managed to win some money off of Daniels, much to his annoyance. When it came time for Philippa to make her final wager, she took the puzzle box out of her lap and added it to the pot in the middle of the table, pleased at the mixture of surprise and curiosity written upon the Americans' faces. Jonathan, on the other hand, looked rather panicked and began shaking his head.

"Now I wouldn't do that if I were you, Philippa," he said.

"You're acting like I don't know how to play," said Philippa, laughing. "My papa taught me every trick in the book."

"Really, I don't think—"

"I say it's a fine wager," said Daniels, interrupting Jonathan. "Let's get on with it."

Philippa was confident and held her own against the Americans, grateful that her father had learned so well from fellow soldiers in the Great War. Such a pity that her dear old papa had to run off with that silly opera singer, but if he hadn't done so then Philippa wouldn't be here in Egypt, having the time of her life as she traveled down the Nile. Papa would be proud if he could see her poker playing and she wished that Rick was around, simply so that he could see what an accomplished young woman his sister was.

She may not know anything about Egypt or going adventuring, but she knew how to play a good game of cards.

That is, until Henderson pounded a fist on the table and crowed triumphantly, a winning hand laid out before him.

The winning hand that won him the puzzle box.

"You _see_ what I told you?" Jonathan told Philippa, looking like the sky was about to fall down. "This is just bloody wonderful, now isn't it?"

"I didn't expect to lose!" Philippa shot back.

"We're playin' for keeps, missy, and I won fair and square," Henderson said smugly. "So hand that little trinket over."

"Can't we have some sort of compromise here?" Jonathan begged. "Perhaps we give you something else that's in equal weight or value?"

"Fair and square," Henderson repeated. "The lady bet that purty little box there, and I won it."

"Yeah, you heard the man," Daniels added.

Philippa cast an apologetic look at Jonathan. "It's true. He _did_ win it. Besides, it's just an old box." She removed the puzzle box from the pot and slid it across the table, trying not to feel too guilty as Henderson took it and admired it from all sides, clearly pleased with the prize he had won.

"Well, we're all heading to the same place, aren't we?" said Burns, trying to help the situation. "So the trinket won't be _that_ far from you."

"You're going to have to tell Evy, you know," Jonathan murmured to Philippa. "The sooner, the better. She'll have my head for letting you gamble with that thing, but perhaps you'll make it out alive."

"Do you know where she is?" asked Philippa.

"Probably got her nose in a book, no doubt. I'll keep these cowboys company while you break the news to the old girl."

For the first time since setting foot in Egypt, Philippa was really, genuinely worried. She thought she was having just a bit of harmless fun, but the look on Jonathan's face told her that the matter was more serious than she had imagined, and she got up from her seat with a sinking feeling she wasn't used to. She needed a cigarette, but now wasn't the time. What had possessed her to take that ridiculous little puzzle box and gamble it anyway? Apparently it was important to Evelyn, though Philippa wondered why she would leave such a seemingly important item out on that table for anybody to grab.

After searching the cabin and finding it empty, Philippa ventured to the quietest part of the deck and discovered Evelyn seated at a table, speaking alone with Rick. Philippa hovered several feet away, noting that they were too absorbed in their conversation to see her, and could have sworn she heard Evelyn ask Rick why he had kissed her. Rick's response appeared to be the wrong one, because Evelyn got up in a huff and stalked away to the camels' pen, and Philippa saw her chance to move in closer.

"Rick?"

Rick looked startled to see her and fought to compose himself. "Philippa? Where'd you come from?"

Philippa realized that she had lost her chance to tell Evelyn about the puzzle box, but perhaps that was for the best. "I was just wandering about on deck," she said casually, walking up to the table Rick sat at. "Decided to see what my dear, darling brother is up to."

"Well your dear, darling brother is in the mood for a drink, sis, so if you'll excuse me..."

"Did you really kiss Evelyn?" Philippa asked as Rick stood up.

He nearly sat back down again and wore that familiar look of uncomfortable embarrassment, as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself or how to form the right words. "You overheard that, then?"

"Just barely. I didn't know you were the type of fellow who did that sort of thing."

"It's a long story," Rick muttered. "Don't mention this to anyone else, you hear?"

"I won't tell a soul. I'll just be here, enjoying the fresh air while you get that drink of yours."

Rick's expression was rather doubtful as he looked at her, but at last he turned away with his large collection of weaponry slung across his back. The moment he was out of sight Philippa turned towards Evelyn, who still stood in the distance visiting with the camels, and decided that she might as well break the news as soon as possible, like Jonathan suggested. She didn't know Evelyn well enough to guess how she would react, but perhaps Philippa could avoid a scolding if she behaved charmingly enough.

And that was something she was _quite_ good at.

She began walking across the deck towards Evelyn, trying to think of a way to approach the subject delicately, when she thought she heard something. Halting in her tracks, she turned towards the mass of luggage and supplies gathered off to the side and tried to see if she could make out anything unusual. "Hello? Is someone there?"

"No," said a voice. Dead silence followed, as if the voice regretted speaking and hoped to be ignored.

"Aha," said Philippa, stepping closer to the luggage. "There _is_ someone here. Why don't you show yourself?"

Another pause, followed by muttering in a language Philippa didn't understand. A man emerged from behind the luggage, pale and thin with a tiny mustache and a red fez covering most of his hair. He smirked when he laid eyes upon Philippa. "So O'Connell has got a sister," he said in a rather whiny accent. "I have to say, you are by far the better looking sibling."

"I'm glad you agree," said Philippa. "How do you know Rick?"

"He is an old friend of mine. I am very relieved to know that he is alive, though he never mentioned having a sister. I definitely would have remembered."

"And _I_ definitely would have remembered a fellow like you if we had been introduced. You must be Beni Gabor, judging from the little I've heard about you."

Beni, for he had confirmed his name with a nod of the head, studied her with cold, calculating eyes that immediately put her on her guard. Everyone she had met in Egypt had been delightful so far, but this particular man gave off an aura that wasn't like the others; he reminded her of pickpockets she had heard about in New York, the kind who lurked in alleys and stole because they couldn't get decent work.

"You are not like O'Connell," Beni said, having finished his quick examination of her. "Why is he going to Hamunaptra?"

Philippa just smiled at him. "I won't tell you for free. You'll have to buy me a drink first."

"You are definitely not like O'Connell."

"Does that mean you're buying me a drink?"

"Yeah, right," Beni scoffed. "I don't buy anybody drinks, not even girls like you."

"Well that's too bad. I'll just have to find my brother Rick and tell him I met an old friend of his, and that you proved to be very unsocial. I'm sure he would love to have a word with you about that."

"Wait!" In the blink of an eye, Beni went from shifty and scornful to outright terrified, and he clutched at Philippa's arm. "I am a good man, Miss O'Connell."

"Miss Graham, actually," Philippa corrected, shaking him off.

"Fine, fine. I am a good man, but I'm afraid your brother has forgotten in the three years we've been parted. He'll probably try to kill me when he finds me on board, and then who will provide for my four children left behind in Cairo, waiting for me to bring them ancient treasure? One of the boys is even named Rick, after my brave old friend!"

Beni spoke with desperation, his accent reminding Philippa of all the poor New York immigrants who lived in crowded tenements, working for pennies so they could eat every night. Philippa had never actually _seen_ any of these immigrant neighborhoods, but her mother used to do charity work before Papa walked out, and Philippa imagined four starving, miniature versions of Beni, each one more pathetic than the last.

"Well of course I won't let my brother hurt you," she said. "You'll see your children again, I promise."

"Thank you, thank you!" Something changed in Beni's eyes after he expressed his gratitude, making them appear empty and despicable once more. For one strange moment Philippa saw a bit of herself in his eyes; the self that she could become if she didn't take care.

But that was ridiculous. She had nothing in common with this pitiful lowlife, aside from an association with Rick, and perhaps appearances could be deceiving. Perhaps this Beni fellow wasn't so bad beneath the surface, otherwise he wouldn't care so much about those children of his, would he?


	6. The Wrong Side

The moon shone full in the sky, almost eerie as it glowed above the barge. Philippa had lost track of Evelyn, who no longer stood at the camel pen, and had no idea where to find Rick or Jonathan, but she figured her best guess would be the poker table where she had left the Americans. The memory of poker, of course, only reminded her that Evelyn's puzzle box was now in Henderson's possession, and she wondered if there was some way she could convince Henderson to give it back. It didn't look like treasure, for one thing, and why would Henderson need to keep such a trinket when he could find gold at Hamunaptra?

Beni had disappeared, fading into the shadows as if he were a shadow himself, and Philippa wasn't too sorry to see him go. She had a hard time believing that the friendly Americans would hire such a man to guide them, but she supposed that beggars couldn't be choosers. She didn't get to pick who she wanted as a brother, after all, and Rick didn't get to choose her as a sister.

Philippa looked back up at the moon, wishing for her usual high spirits to return to her. She didn't like turning serious and philosophical; that was best left up to people who were better suited for those frames of mind, and Philippa knew she was suited to pleasure. That was why Jonathan made such a good companion, despite the untimely theft of her bracelet, and Philippa searched for him as she headed back towards the Americans' poker table.

She _did_ see something that resembled wet footprints upon the deck's wooden surface, but paid them no mind and forgot all about them once she spotted the Americans. Henderson, Burns, and Daniels sat alone at their table, no longer engaged in their game of poker, and Philippa made a beeline for Henderson, who was in the process of pulling a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Well if it ain't my favorite poker player," said Henderson, giving her a carefree grin. "Got any more moneymakers to wager?"

"Sorry," said Philippa, keeping her patience. "I'm afraid I didn't fully explain that puzzle box you won. It never belonged to me in the first place, you see, and—"

"In that case, it _is_ fair that we got it," Daniels cut in.

"That _I_ got it," Henderson corrected. "That old trinket will fetch me a small fortune, little lady. The doc here says it's real valuable." He gestured towards a stern-looking man with a monocle who sat nearby. Philippa supposed he had been there all along, but she had been too caught up in playing cards to notice him earlier.

"The girl clearly doesn't appreciate the artifact's worth, otherwise she wouldn't have so foolishly gambled it," the doc remarked, eying Philippa with distaste. "It is in better hands now."

"Sure, I didn't know what I was gambling with, but I need it back," said Philippa. "I'm gonna be in an awful lot of trouble if I don't return that thing to its rightful owner, and you boys don't want me to get in trouble, do you?"

"The artifact's rightful owner has been dead and buried for thousands of years," said the doc. "Therefore there is no validity in your argument."

Philippa remained silent, trying to think of something clever to respond with. Evelyn would know what to say, but Evelyn was probably in her cabin and Philippa would rather leave her out of this mess in the first place.

"You fellas hear something?" asked Burns, suddenly alert.

It only took a moment for the "something" to come into view, and Philippa felt an emotion she had never expected to feel on her journey to glory and riches: absolute terror. Pandemonium broke out as black-robed men invaded the deck, brandishing weapons with the obvious intent to do harm, and Philippa sprang from her seat as the Americans and the intruders began a shooting match. All the guns that Rick toted around made her more curious than worried, but now Philippa wished that guns had never been invented as she ducked under a table.

The Americans, on the other hand, appeared to be having the time of their lives as they shot at the intruders, seemingly unaware of the screams and panic that filled the air. Philippa came out from under her table and headed towards the deck railing, eyes wide with fear as bullets flew across the barge, and knew she had to get the hell out of there, no matter what.

"Hell is upon us!" Beni, whimpering like a beaten dog, came running up and shoved Philippa out of the way, knocking her to the deck as he threw himself over the railing.

Philippa didn't have time to agonize over her skinned knees. A man in black robes was heading right towards her, waving a knife in his hand, and she struggled over the railing as fast as she could without hurting herself further. Panic gave her speed and she toppled unceremoniously over the edge, splashing into the cold river not far from where Beni had landed.

All the fun of traveling to Hamunaptra disappeared the moment she hit the water. Jumping off a boat for fear of being massacred was anything but fun, and Philippa coughed and sputtered her way through the river, her nose aching due to the water that went up it. Who were those awful men, and why did they have to ruin such a lovely boat trip?

Philippa paddled through the water, her handbag looped awkwardly around one arm, and realized that the boat was now on fire, and people and animals were making frantic escapes into the water. Hopefully Rick, Evelyn, and Jonathan had made it to safety, but there was no time to worry about that now, and Philippa splashed harder in her desperation to get to dry land.

"Watch where you are splashing!" an accented voice grumbled ahead of her, and Philippa blinked through her uncomfortably wet lashes to see Beni paddling nearby, his distinctive red fez turned maroon by the water.

"Gee, I'm just trying to stay alive here," said Philippa.

Beni stopped paddling and bobbed in the water, turning his head to look at her face. "Oh, it is _you_. You are as rude and noisy as O'Connell."

"I thought he was your best pal."

Beni just sneered at her and resumed swimming. "Why are you following me? Why don't you follow your brother instead?"

"I don't know where Rick is, and I'm not turning back to find out."

"Then you and I are alike." Beni sounded pleased with himself, though it was hard to tell through all the splashing and paddling the two of them did.

Philippa didn't respond and half-expected Beni to make another snide remark, but he remained silent as well. She didn't refuse to turn back because she had no concern for Rick, but because she wanted to put as much distance between herself and the burning boat—complete with terrifying attackers dressed in black—as possible, and if that made her similar to Beni then so be it. Relief filled her the moment she reached shallow water and she waded the rest of the way, hardly caring that her clothes stuck to her in the most unpleasant manner, and knew right then and there that she wanted to go home. Treasure wasn't worth it in the face of such danger.

Daniels, who had arrived in the same vicinity as Philippa, appeared to share her feelings. "The States may've outlawed liquor, but nothin' like _that_ woulda happened back there. What's the matter with these people around here anyhow?"

"At least we're alive?" Philippa said, though it didn't seem like much of a silver lining at the moment.

Daniels just spat into the water and waded to the shore, where a number of Egyptian diggers and horses sought safety.

Burns and Henderson arrived as well, and Philippa was about to ask Henderson if he still had the puzzle box, when she noticed some familiar figures on the other side of the river. There they all were—Rick, Evelyn, Jonathan, even the prison warden—all dripping wet and looking as disgruntled as Philippa felt.

"How nice to see you again, my good friend!" Beni stood ankle-deep in the water, waving his arms and raising his voice to catch Rick's attention.

"Well hey there, buddy!" Rick shouted back. "I would have tossed you overboard if I'd run into you earlier!"

"Well I'm lucky I am out of your reach, and with somebody to keep me company!" Beni grabbed Philippa by the arm and dragged her towards him, causing her to stumble in the shallow water.

"Philippa!" Jonathan exclaimed, squinting at her from across the river. "You're alive, old girl!"

"Yeah, and on the wrong side of the river," Rick added. "Lucky her."

Beni's face fell the moment he heard these words and he looked around him, realizing that they were indeed on the wrong side of the river. Philippa gazed at Rick, feeling more helpless than she ever had in her life, and didn't even have the energy to pull her arm out of Beni's grasp. More than anything she wanted to dry off, get something to eat, and sleep for a good several hours. "Don't worry about me!" she called out. "I'll be with the Americans!"

"Damn right she will," Henderson chimed in. "So you get your paws off her, Gabor."

Beni muttered to himself in his own foreign tongue and released Philippa, who thought longingly of her nice dry apartment at home. Everything had turned into a mess, starting with her disastrous gamble of the puzzle box, and she couldn't bear to look at Evelyn, who stood in a soaking wet nightgown with her arms folded across her chest. Rick and Beni kept eying each other across the river, paying more attention to each other than to Philippa, and Philippa finally stalked off in search of something, _anything_ that could make her situation just a little better, or at least a little drier. If Rick wanted her back he would just have to wait until the morning, though for one sinking moment Philippa wondered if Rick _did_ want her back.

Neither of them had asked for a sibling, and Philippa may have looked forward to meeting Rick and getting to know him, but she hadn't spent enough time with him to get attached. He seemed more attached to Evelyn, judging from the way he acted every time he was around her, and Philippa didn't blame him when Evelyn was clearly smart enough not to lose important artifacts, or get herself landed on the wrong side of the river with three cowboys and a weasel.

Philippa considered pulling off her wet clothes and setting them out to dry, then realized she had nothing to change into, and she doubted there was anything to eat either. A quick peek into her handbag told her that her cosmetics had survived the river, but her cigarettes were damp along with her matches, and her most important possessions were probably burned up by now. All of her clothes, her novels, and the letters she had written to her friends at home were lost forever.

"This yours?"

Philippa turned towards the voice and found Burns holding her hat, which was just as drenched as the rest of her clothing. "Thanks," said Philippa, taking the sodden hat from his outstretched hand. "I didn't even realize it was missing."

"That was one hell of a close shave back there," he remarked, peering at her through his wet glasses.

"Any idea who those black-robed fellows were?"

"Beats me. If I'd known that was gonna happen, I would have never gotten on that boat, I can tell you that."

"Makes you miss the good old States, doesn't it?" asked Philippa. "What did you do before you came out here?"

Burns hesitated, looking a little embarrassed. "Well, I was going to become a lawyer. Guess I wasn't cut out for all that courtroom stuff, so I dropped out of law school and ran into Henderson and Daniels, who were looking for another guy to form a treasure hunting team. And next thing I know, here I am."

"Well that's nothing to be ashamed of. I waited tables in a sandwich shop five days a week and the manager was a real killjoy. Didn't stop me from chatting with the customers whenever I brought them their food, though, which sure made the time pass better. I have to say, I would gladly go back to that sandwich shop if I could get those men in black robes out of my mind."

Burns nodded his agreement. "I could sure go for a sandwich right about now. Looks like we lost all our food and supplies, and you're stuck with us to boot."

"Oh, you're not so bad, though I never did catch your first name."

"It's Bernard."

"Bernard Burns," said Philippa, testing it out on her tongue. "Well that's nice enough."

"It's a family name. My pop was named Bernard and his pop before him, and so on and so on for generations. Could have been worse, I guess."

"At least your parents didn't alter your name at the last minute because they thought you were going to be a boy. I was supposed to be a Philip."

"I can't see you as a Philip."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Philippa began to feel a bit better after talking with Burns, and she was grateful that her bobbed hair would dry fast. A blend of sounds reached her ears after the conversation died down—horses whinnying, diggers muttering amongst each other in Arabic, and Beni cursing to himself over something or other—and she realized that they were all out in the open, without the boat or any other kind of shelter to protect them. What if they got attacked a second time?

She was about to voice these worries to Burns, when Henderson raised his voice over everyone else. "Well, fellas, I don't know about you, but I ain't gonna stand on this bank all day. Looks like we're gonna have to cross the river."

A murmur of agreement rose up, and Philippa wished she had been lucky enough to land on the side with her brother. This was _not_ how she had envisioned her glorious path to fun and riches.

Sighing, she put on her wet hat and started to walk.


	7. The Great Outdoors

"If you could spend one night with any actress of your choice, which one would it be?"

"Aw, hell, Henderson. That ain't fair."

"What ain't fair about it?"

"You really wanna get us thinkin' about actresses when we're in the middle of the goddamned desert? Next thing ya know we'll see mirages that look just like naked girls, and then we'll all drive ourselves nuts."

"All right then, Daniels. What _actor_ would you choose to spend the night with?"

"You can go right to hell, Henderson."

This was the type of conversation that Philippa had to listen to throughout the long morning, though she was too tired to pay much mind to it. Her head ached from yesterday's drinks and her eyes were sore from the bright sunlight, made even worse by the fact that she had no shelter aside from her hat, which did little to protect her against Egypt's blinding sun. They had made it over the river, though Philippa was in an exhausted haze at the time and didn't remember much of it, and now they trekked across a desert that looked exactly the same no matter how far they traveled. Philippa had known all along that a desert consisted of sand, but she hadn't imagined that so _much_ sand could exist in one vast space.

Perhaps she wasn't suited to the outdoors after all.

Though her clothes were dry, they clung to her unpleasantly, as if she had worn them for a whole week instead of a couple of days, and she felt sore from sitting on a horse all morning. Still, it was better than riding a camel, which Philippa had never seen before except in illustrations, and she was glad she had taken some horse riding lessons a few years back, when she became acquainted with a young jockey who had the loveliest manners and the nicest eyes. It was too bad he turned out to be a bit of a bore who wouldn't dance or stay out late, but at least Philippa could sit on a horse without falling off its back.

Now if only she could run into Rick and get the puzzle box back from Henderson for good measure. Jonathan had probably told Evelyn what had happened by now and if that was the case, then Philippa probably wouldn't receive the warm welcome she hoped for and might be better off with her new party after all.

"Are you having fun, my most dearest Philippa?" an accented voice said to the left of her.

On second thought, she would much rather be with Rick and the others.

Beni pulled up beside her horse on a camel that constantly tried to resist his guidance, and Philippa couldn't help a twinge of amusement each time he said her name. Evelyn's well-bred accent made her name sound sophisticated, but Beni's accent only made it sound comical.

"Oh, yes," she told Beni. "I'm having the time of my life. How much further until we reach civilization?"

"How the hell should I know?" said Beni.

"Well you've been to Hamunaptra before, haven't you? Don't you lead people out there all the time?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. I have much more experience than O'Connell does, that is for sure. My poor old friend is a great fighter, but not so great a thinker, I'm afraid."

The more time Philippa spent around Beni, the more she was puzzled by his friendship with Rick. "Well I wouldn't know much about him," she confessed. "We only met for the first time a couple of days ago. I imagine you know a whole lot more about Rick than I do, being his good friend and all."

"And why should I tell you anything? You never told me why O'Connell is going to Hamunaptra."

"It's nothing, really. A girl saved his life, so he's taking her out there so he won't be in her debt."

"How typical," Beni scoffed. He watched her with dark, glinting eyes, frowning a bit when his camel spit into the sand. "And what about you? Why are _you_ going to Hamunaptra?"

"Treasure, of course," Philippa replied. "Why else?"

Beni's face split into a grin, making him appear almost friendly for an instant. "You ended up on our side of the river for a reason, then."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"You don't need your brother and his companions. Don't you see how nicely you fit in here with us?" Beni's grin became more of a leer, and a self-satisfied one at that. "I meant it when I said you are the better looking sibling."

"Now you're being silly," said Philippa, waving a hand at him. "Besides, I don't flirt with a man unless I know a little about him first. Where's your accent from anyway?"

"I'm Hungarian."

"That in Europe somewhere?"

"Yes. I don't have to ask to know that _you_ are American. A blind and deaf man would know that you're American."

"You say that like it's bad or something."

Beni just smirked and didn't reply.

Philippa squinted ahead, trying to make out something besides the endless miles of sand, but the landscape remained the same as ever. "Say, do you really think there's gold out there?"

"People say I am superstitious, but I believe there is always some truth to legends. Of course, I also believe that Hamunaptra is cursed, but as long as I don't piss off the dead I should be able to get rich easily enough."

"That sounds like a good plan, I guess. Where are you gonna go after Hamunaptra?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," said Beni, being difficult once more.

"Well I'm stuck here on this trip with you. Might as well try to get friendly. Are you planning to go back to your homeland once you have a lot of money?"

"What homeland?" Beni replied mockingly. "I do not have a homeland anywhere."

"What about your children you left in Cairo? Are you gonna take them anywhere nice?"

Beni frowned. "Children? Wha—Oh yes, yes. My poor, pitiful, starving children. Of course I will provide for them nicely when I've got sacks of treasure."

"What about your wife?" asked Philippa, wondering who on earth would marry somebody like Beni. "You've never mentioned her at all."

"Oh, the tragic mother of my poor children died a year ago," said Beni. His accent was more of a whine than ever and he looked at Philippa with large, pathetic eyes. "It was so very, very sad, and I have been terribly lonely ever since."

"Poor fellow," said Philippa. "That must have been awful hard for you."

"Yes, but the pain in my heart is much better now that the sister of my good friend is here. Perhaps you will make my lonely nights more bearable."

Philippa couldn't tell if he was serious or merely joking, but she didn't care for the smirk on his face and tried to laugh it off. "Oh, you're just saying that because I'm the only girl in your party. You're quite the flatterer, you know."

"So I have been told." Beni stopped smirking and gestured off into the distance. "We have found your precious civilization at last. Enjoy it while you can."

Philippa felt her spirits rise immediately as they drew closer to some sort of settlement that consisted of tents, camels, and people swathed entirely in clothing that kept the sun off their bodies. Philippa didn't care who they were or what they looked like, as long as they meant no harm and were willing to provide food, supplies, and someplace to rest for a bit. Perhaps these people even had cigarettes. She had tried smoking one of her own about an hour ago, but it tasted awful after getting soaked by the river.

"All _right_!" Henderson called out in triumph. "Let's get us some food and liquor!"

"And maybe a new shirt," Burns added.

Philippa couldn't imagine how anyone could live out in the desert, or even stay there for an extended period of time, and she longed for the dull but comfortable hotel room she left behind in Cairo. Even Rick's dingy apartment would feel like paradise and Philippa dismounted from her horse with the intention of getting out of the sun as soon as possible.

"You speak any Arabic?" she asked Burns, who had just gotten off his own horse.

"Nah, not a word," said Burns. "What about you?"

"I don't know a word either. Any chance these desert fellows can understand us?"

Burns joined up with Henderson and Daniels in an attempt to communicate with some of the desert men, but they didn't get very far due to the language barrier. It turned out that the only members of the group who spoke both English and Arabic were Beni and Dr. Chamberlain, the monocle-wearing Egyptologist who had berated Philippa on the boat, and Philippa decided she would stick to Beni and let the three cowboys have Chamberlain as their translator. Beni was certainly not her favorite person in the world, but he _was_ friends with her brother at one time, no matter how strained that friendship was now, and she liked to think that she and Beni were starting to get along. He was really a funny little man once you got to know him.

Philippa drifted closer to Beni, who was grumbling abuse at his unruly camel, and smiled as if she were back at home without a care in the world. "Say, Beni, would you mind asking these people for something to eat?"

Beni smiled as well, though his eyes carried a mischievous, almost wicked gleam. "Oh, we do not need to ask. We just wait until their backs are turned."

Philippa lowered her voice. "What, you mean _steal_?"

"It is easier because it involves less talking. And how do we know these people aren't friends with the ones who attacked us on the boat?"

"Well nobody has tried to harm us yet. And the doctor seems to be having success."

Dr. Chamberlain stood in front of a tent, the three Americans lingering behind him, and conversed with one of the desert men until he was admitted entrance into the tent. Daniels, Burns, and Henderson all looked at each other, then followed Chamberlain into shelter from the sun, much to Philippa's envy.

"You see?" she told Beni. "All you have to do is ask."

"Then why don't _you_ ask?" Beni shot back.

"Because the man should do the asking, that's why. Go on, ask if they can give us some food."

Beni said something that Philippa couldn't understand—probably in Hungarian, she would guess—and trudged off to one of the tents with Philippa following behind. What she wouldn't give for a glass of iced tea with some bacon and eggs! She doubted she would get anything like that in the middle of the desert and watched Beni speak to a woman whose face was half-covered by a dark veil. She didn't understand a word since the two of them conversed in Arabic, but Beni looked at the woman with sad, pleading eyes, all traces of mockery and contempt gone from his face, and he gestured towards Philippa a couple of times.

"What are you telling her?" Philippa asked.

But she didn't get a response. The woman herded her into the tent, where an elderly man and woman waited with food that made Philippa's mouth water, and soon Philippa found herself kneeling on a rug with a late breakfast in her lap, out of reach from the sun's bright rays. Beni was situated a few paces away from her, sneaking furtive glances around the tent whenever the desert people looked away from him, and Philippa waited until she had eaten before speaking to him again.

"So what did you say earlier? It sounded like quite a story."

"I said we got lost in the desert and have not eaten in four days," Beni replied. "I also told her that you are my wife."

Philippa glared at him. "Do you always lie when you want something?"

"I do not lie. I survive."

Philippa fell quiet after Beni uttered those words. She _did_ wonder if the story about his wife and children was true, but she didn't ask him and sat in tired silence, still annoyed over Beni's false story about a marriage that fortunately didn't exist. If those men in black hadn't attacked their boat she could be dressed in a nice set of clothes, reading a book or having a lively conversation with Jonathan, or perhaps even bonding with Rick a little more.

A couple of young girls entered the tent and marveled over Philippa's short hair and dress that fell just below her knees, exposing her stocking-clad lower legs, while Beni smirked and wouldn't translate. The chatter of the girls was soon interrupted by Henderson's voice, which called for Beni rather impatiently, and Philippa exited the tent and re-entered the outside world with reluctance.

"Where's Gabor at?" asked Henderson, standing a few paces away with his cowboy hat pulled low on his head.

"Right behind me," said Philippa.

Beni appeared a moment later, looking shifty as he approached Henderson. "Are you ready to find treasure, my good barat'm?"

Henderson frowned. "What were you doin' with the lady?"

"She will not leave me alone. Is it my fault if she seems to prefer my company?"

"Well, c'mon. We gotta get a move on if we wanna catch up to O'Connell and his pals."

Philippa weighed her options. She could either stay behind with a tribe of people who didn't speak a word of English, or she could find Rick and hope they spent as few days in the desert as possible. Sighing, she followed Beni and Henderson to their group of horses and camels and got back in the saddle, which felt as uncomfortable as ever. "How much longer until we get to Hamunaptra?" she asked Beni, whose camel was spitting nearby.

"How the hell should I know?" said Beni. "I lost track after we got attacked, so figure it out yourself."

It was going to be a very long trip, and Philippa regretted every moment of it.


	8. Competition

Philippa daydreamed about automobile rides she had taken in New York. Before she sailed away to Egypt, a whole string of young men used to drive to her apartment and take her all over the city, to parties with friends and shows at the theater, and she remembered how grand it felt to sit in the passenger seat while the wind rushed around her, deliciously cool on summer days. If only she and her companions could _drive_ to Hamunaptra instead of riding on pack animals across the hot desert. As if the daytime wasn't bad enough, the air grew cold when evening fell and Philippa froze during the night after hours of sweating during the day.

The three Americans may have stocked up on food and supplies from the desert people, but it wasn't enough to ease Philippa's discomfort and she wished Rick didn't have such a strong sense of doing the right thing. If Rick hadn't kept his promise to take Evelyn to Hamunaptra, he and Philippa could be on their way to America, back to proper civilization.

She yawned on top of her horse, wondering why Beni had made them start traveling so early in the morning. The sun wasn't even up yet, which might have been tolerable if they had some coffee on hand, but all she had to drink was a canteen of water that did nothing to ease her grogginess. She struggled to stay awake, longing to swap her uncomfortable horse for a nice automobile, and thought she was imagining things when she spotted four figures up ahead, walking towards her party. But no, the figures were real, and as they drew closer Philippa saw that they were camels with a person riding on each back. A _familiar_ person on each back.

She briefly wondered if she should call out to Rick, but in the end she held back and watched Rick and Beni's camels approach each other. She urged her horse forward, no longer as sleepy as she was a minute ago, and waved to Jonathan once she was close enough to see his face. "Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Carnahan."

"I say! I missed you, old girl," said Jonathan, his face brightening up. "Why don't you trot on over to our side and join us?"

"Not so fast, partner," said Henderson. "The lady is part of our team now. You want her back, you gotta fight for her."

"Well it's bad enough you've got our puzzle box," Jonathan protested. "Why should you get to keep Philippa too?"

Rick and Evelyn both looked at Jonathan, surprised at the information he had let slip. "Puzzle box?" Evelyn echoed. "The map burned up on the boat and I thought those men in black stole the box. Are you saying that _these_ Americans have got it?"

"Oh no, you're right," Jonathan said quickly, feigning innocence. "Must have slipped my mind. Those buggers in black _did_ steal the—"

"Jonathan," Rick cut in. "Mind telling your sister the truth for once?"

"Oh, all right. Philippa and I were playing a game of poker with the American chaps over there, and they won the puzzle box off our hands. Said they won fair and square and were playing for keeps, and who am I dispute that?"

"How could you lose the box in a game of poker when it was sitting in my cabin?" Evelyn asked.

Jonathan fell silent. Philippa sat there on her horse, unable to look at Rick, and knew the truth would have to come out sooner or later. "I thought it would make the game more interesting, so I took the box and wagered it," she confessed. "I didn't expect to lose."

"Your sister is not very bright," Beni told Rick, amusement written all over his face. "It must run in the family."

Rick tensed up, but he ignored Beni's comment and gazed out towards the dark desert. "Well, now we know where your missing artifact is, Evelyn. Soon as that sun comes up, it's hello to Hamunaptra."

Philippa found that she couldn't look at Evelyn either and looked down at the sand instead, trying not to imagine how Evelyn was taking the unexpected news. She _did_ try to take the puzzle box while Henderson was asleep, but he always slept with his guns within reach, ready to shoot any trespassers, and Philippa would rather be guilty than shot full of holes. Besides, at least the artifact wasn't at the bottom of the river or in the hands of those men in black, so Evelyn couldn't be _too_ upset, could she?

Philippa needed a cigarette more badly than ever.

"Hey O'Connell, how 'bout we make you a bet?" Daniels spoke up. "First one to Hamunaptra gets to keep the trinket."

The warden perked up with interest, his round face splitting into a grin. "I like this plan," he said, nodding eagerly.

"That's because you're hoping you'll win it," Jonathan said with a long-suffering eye roll.

"Guys, I think he means the _team_ of the winner gets to keep the trinket," said Rick.

"And of course we're going to win," Evelyn added. She sat up straight on her camel, eyes flashing with a determination Philippa had caught glimpses of before. "You have yourselves a bet, gentlemen."

"I hope you can ride like the wind, missy," Henderson told Philippa.

Philippa didn't tell him that she had never ridden faster than a safe trot. Hopefully he would be so busy with his own horse that he wouldn't notice her lagging behind. The sun was coming up, its faint glow visible across the endless stretch of sand, and Rick kept his eyes fixed on that glow as if it carried all the world's answers. The sun continued to rise at a steady pace and soon Philippa's eyes were fixed on the sight as well, for the drab landscape had suddenly transformed into a golden picture of beauty and wonder, worthy of the finest poetic description.

Philippa was so tired of sand, it had never occurred to her that the desert could be _beautiful,_ but the sight before her eyes proved her wrong. "Hamunaptra?" she murmured to no one in particular.

"The one and only," Burns murmured back, gazing through his glasses with awe.

Now _this_ was what Philippa had imagined when Rick first told her of the great lost city. _This_ was surely a place where treasure awaited and when the race for the city began, she urged her horse onward with an enthusiasm she thought she had lost ages ago. She was dead last in the race, just as she expected to be, while Evelyn pulled ahead on her camel with an expertise that Philippa envied. Not that she wanted to be an expert camel rider, because she certainly had no love for the four-legged fleabags, but it would be nice to have a skill aside from holding her liquor, dancing well, and flirting. Those three skills worked perfectly fine in New York, but Philippa had quickly learned that Egypt was a whole different environment ready to eat her alive if she didn't take care.

She didn't realize that Beni was on the ground until her horse stumbled, throwing her off its back. Philippa tumbled onto the sand, aching in a million places, and tried to brush herself clean while a familiar snicker reached her ears.

Beni sat in the sand, looking just as scrambled as Philippa, and watched her horse trot away.

"Did you make me fall off my horse?" Philippa demanded.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Beni, his tone falsely apologetic. "Did that hurt?"

"Why would you do a thing like that?"

"Ask your brother. He is the one who pulled me off my camel."

"Well if you're angry at Rick, then punish _him_ ," said Philippa. "I've got nothing to do with your silly quarrel with him."

"What are you upset for? It's not like you were winning the race or anything. I did you a favor."

Philippa brushed sand off her skirt and adjusted her stockings, hating the smirk on Beni's face. "You're a real bozo. Did you know that?"

"Now there's an insult I haven't heard before. Just when I thought I had been called every bad name in existence."

Philippa sighed and peered out into the desert, watching the clouds of dust that grew smaller and smaller as the horses and camels rode farther away. "What are we going to do now? My horse is gone and so is that fleabag you were riding."

Beni stood up and looked down at her with a mixture of amusement and contempt, the usual facial expression he wore when regarding her. "We walk. Or at least _I_ will walk. You may stay here in the desert and complain if you want to."

"Of course I'm going to walk." Philippa stood up and realized she had sand in her shoes, but that couldn't be helped now. "Thanks to you, I could be at Hamunaptra by now."

Beni spat into the sand. "Do not thank me. Thank that brother of yours."

Philippa ignored him and started walking. The distance wasn't very long, but it felt like hours when she was tired, thirsty, and irritated, and she was practically stumbling on her feet by the time she reached Rick, Jonathan, and all the others. Beni walked some distance away from her and slunk off towards the three Americans, while Philippa trudged over to Rick and wondered if she looked as awkward as she felt.

"You look horrid, my dear," said Jonathan, eying her crooked stockings, sandy hair, and disgruntled face. "It seems the desert doesn't agree with you."

"You can say that again," said Philippa. "Who won the race?"

"Evy came in first," Jonathan said with pride. "She takes to those camels like a duck to water."

"Then you've got the puzzle box back."

Rick shook his head. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean? Evelyn won the race, so the cowboys should have handed over the box."

"Yeah, well, it's easier said than done." Rick gestured towards the Americans, who stood at some distance with Dr. Chamberlain and their team of Egyptian diggers. For the first time Philippa realized that Evelyn was also among their number, looking stubborn as she conversed with Henderson.

"That Henderson chap couldn't find the puzzle box," Jonathan explained. "Searched all over the place, then searched the other fellows, but it was like it vanished into thin air. Evy didn't believe that he lost it, of course. She's making them double-check everything, including all of the diggers."

Philippa felt rather hollow, as if all the purpose of life had been sucked out of her. "Well that's just swell," she said. "All that fuss over a little artifact, and now it's gone."

"You sure _you_ didn't take it?" Rick asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"What kind of question is that?" Philippa asked. "Of course I didn't take it."

"Really, now, O'Connell. Philippa wouldn't stoop to such behavior," Jonathan chimed in.

Rick put both hands up in surrender. "Just checking."

Philippa tried not to let it show on her face, but she was hurt that Rick would suggest such a thing. What did he truly think of her, anyway? Did he see her as nothing but a troublesome burden who ought to have been left in Cairo? If she hadn't been separated from the group she might have earned some of Rick's respect by now, but then again, maybe she would have done the opposite and made him regret being related to her.

He probably already _did_ regret being related to her.

Evelyn returned to the group, looking frustrated but undefeated. "Well, they're either the most persistent liars in the world or extremely careless," she informed them, nodding towards the Americans. "Either way, we haven't got the key, but there's no use standing here and moping about it."

"We're probably better off without that thing anyway," said Rick. "It's brought _me_ nothing but trouble."

"You can keep yourself _out_ of trouble if you help me unpack the equipment," Evelyn told him. "We may have lost the key, but there's bound to be something under that sand just waiting for us to discover it."

"Do not forget," said the warden, eying her sternly. "Twenty-five percent is mine."

"Yes, of course," Evelyn said distractedly. She was so busy sifting through her saddlebags that she seemed to have barely heard him. "Jonathan, start scoping out the area, would you? We'll need to find a starting point."

Philippa realized that even though Rick had a commanding presence and carried all of the weapons, Evelyn was the leader. Jonathan immediately put down the flask he was drinking from and gave Philippa a gentle clap on the shoulder, while Evelyn continued to sort through supplies and give instructions.

"Care to join me for a stroll about the premises, old girl?" asked Jonathan. "If I'm to be doing chores for Evy I might as well have somebody fun about, eh?"

"I'm flattered you still think I'm fun," Philippa replied. "I sure don't feel like a whole lot of fun right now."

"That's because you've been stuck with those beastly old cowboys. Now that you're back in proper company you'll brighten up in no time."

Philippa hoped he was right and followed him away from the group, into the lost city itself. She didn't find it terribly impressive, since it was really nothing more than a multitude of sand, which she had seen plenty of already, and some crumbling old structures that looked nothing like the golden palaces of her imaginings. Jonathan appeared optimistic enough, humming to himself under his breath as he surveyed the area, and Philippa supposed that Hamunaptra was quaint in a dusty sort of way.

"So how do we find the treasure?" she asked.

" _That_ , my dear Philippa, is where the work comes in," Jonathan replied.

"I was afraid you would say that."


	9. Sleepless Nights

"So what exactly is your sister looking for again?" Philippa asked. "A book or something?"

"Not just _any_ book," said Jonathan. "The Book of Amun-Ra, made entirely of gold."

Philippa, who felt more like her old self after chatting with Jonathan, tried to perk up at these words. Hamunaptra had been turned into a small camp filled with simple, makeshift tents, scattered supplies, and Egyptian diggers wandering about in their robes and turbans, jabbering to each other in Arabic. Philippa stood off to the side with Jonathan, feeling out of place as Evelyn told Rick and the warden about the statue of Anubis, which Philippa had never heard of until she saw it for herself.

Philippa wasn't jealous, exactly, but she wished she could find some way to gain Rick's attention. Only a fool could miss how much he liked Evelyn and Philippa wasn't surprised, when Evelyn was so intelligent and passionate about ancient Egypt, but it made her feel ridiculous every time she tried to talk to Rick and had nothing to say to him. It seemed the only thing she and Rick had in common was a knack for getting in trouble.

"All right, little lady. Cough it up."

Speaking of trouble.

Philippa turned away from Jonathan and found Henderson standing a couple of feet away from her, looking disgruntled. "I'm no good at riddles," said Philippa. "What am I supposed to be coughing up?"

"You know exactly what I'm talkin' about," said Henderson. "We searched everybody, including that good-for-nothing Gabor, and found no sign of that trinket everyone's makin' a fuss about. That means that _you_ managed to steal it from me somehow."

"Now wait just a minute," said Jonathan. "You haven't got any proof that Philippa stole it from you."

"I don't need no proof. She didn't have any trouble takin' it when we were on the boat, did she? If she can steal it from that sister of yours, then she can steal it from anyone."

Philippa had always liked Henderson, but endless hours of traveling across the desert, making a fool of herself, and longing for a cigarette made her hate the sight of his face. She took her handbag from her shoulder and thrust it at him. "There. Go ahead and search me."

"Listen here, Philippa," said Jonathan, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You really ought to let me handle this. I _am_ experienced in these kinds of situations, after all."

"If the lady says I can search her, then I'm gonna search her," said Henderson. He dug through the handbag, frowning in concentration as he looked through its meager contents, and when he couldn't find the puzzle box he felt around the outside of the bag, looking for hidden pockets. At last he admitted defeat and returned the bag to Philippa.

"Still think I'm a thief?" Philippa challenged him.

"What about your hat? You hidin' the trinket in there?"

Philippa removed her hat and showed him that it was empty.

Henderson stared at her for a long moment, looking her up and down. "And how 'bout your dress?"

"Really, I don't think that's necessary," said Jonathan. "Philippa hasn't got it."

"Are you sure Beni didn't take it?" asked Philippa.

"I already said that we searched him," said Henderson. " _Twice_. Guess that thing is lost under the sand now, but we'll find plenty of treasure to make up for it."

"Oh, not if we find the treasure first," said Jonathan, looking more cheerful. "Come on, now, Philippa. I suppose Evy will want us to help with the digging."

That was the part Philippa had been dreading. She was perfectly willing to help _look_ for treasure and carry it out of the lost city, but she wasn't any good with tools. Evelyn soon noticed and suggested that Philippa keep a watch on things, just to make sure that the digging progressed safely, and Philippa ended up hovering awkwardly, feeling useless and in the way. "Why did these silly Egyptians have to bury all their gold anyway?" Philippa muttered.

"Beats me," said Rick. "Haven't these guys ever heard of a bank?"

Philippa was surprised that Rick had responded to her and felt her spirits lift just a little.

"This is it," Evelyn announced, her eyes dancing with excitement as she gazed at the hole they had made. "The entrance to the Book of Amun-Ra."

"The entrance to _gold_ ," said Jonathan, rubbing his hands together.

Philippa took one look down the hole and shuddered. "You know, I think I'll sit this out. Let me know if there's any treasure down there."

"Oh, Philippa, don't be a spoilsport," said Jonathan. "There might be a few snakes or scorpions or bugs down there, but no matter."

"That's awfully reassuring."

"I might sit out as well," said the warden, eying Philippa with a sly smile on his lips. "I do not like bugs."

Rick prodded him towards the hole. "You'll go down there if you know what's good for you."

Perhaps she was a coward, but Philippa would only get in the way if she followed the others, and spending so much time in the sun had made her tired. After watching Evelyn, Rick, Jonathan, and the warden climb down a rope into the chamber below, Philippa wandered off to her bedroll and caught up on some much-needed sleep.

She didn't know what time it was when she woke, since she didn't have a watch, but when Philippa opened her groggy eyes she figured that quite a bit of time had passed. Everyone must still be in the chamber, since she didn't see any life aside from the camels and horses, and she rummaged through the food supplies to take care of the hunger that gnawed at her. If she was lucky, Rick and the others would find some gold right away and they could all go home.

Home to civilization, proper bedrooms, and three full meals a day.

Home to her mother, who was anxious to see her and Rick.

Philippa had almost forgotten about her mother throughout all the hectic adventures, but as she sat all alone and munched on the scanty food supplies, she realized how much she missed her. In spite of all their differences, and in spite of the frequent arguments and misunderstandings, Philippa missed her terribly. She had never really appreciated her mother until she found herself sitting alone in the City of the Dead.

"So this is what O'Connell's sister does while her brother looks for treasure," somebody said behind her. "Why are you not with the others?"

Philippa turned around to meet Beni's scrawny face. "Why aren't _you_ with the others?"

Beni looked shiftier than ever. "I asked you the question first."

"Doesn't mean I have to answer."

"Then I will not answer either."

"Nobody likes a copycat, Beni."

He frowned at her. "I am not a cat."

"It's an expression, you bozo. It means you're copying me."

"Haven't I said that we are alike?"

Philippa didn't answer the question. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that maybe, just _maybe_ he was right. "This place gives me the heebie-jeebies," she said. "That's why I'm out here."

"You have no excuse," Beni scoffed at her. "You did not see anyone get melted."

"Well of course not. The Egyptian sun isn't _that_ powerful."

"I am not talking about the sun," said Beni. "I am talking about the booby trap inside Hamunaptra. It melted some of our diggers."

"That's baloney."

Beni frowned again. "What the hell does meat have to do with this?"

"Are you telling the truth or are you just trying to scare me?"

"Why would I lie about something like that?"

"Gee, I don't know. You have no problem lying about everything else."

Beni grumbled at her in Hungarian and wandered away, probably off to steal from his team's supplies. Philippa finished eating and sorted through her handbag, wishing she had a good novel to relax with, or any type of book at all. It was a relief when Rick returned to the campsite, accompanied by Jonathan, Evelyn, and the warden, and Jonathan immediately plopped down next to Philippa.

"What a day," he said. "All work and no gold."

"You didn't find anything?" asked Philippa.

"Nothing," said Rick.

"And I spent the whole time trying to make sure _he_ didn't wander off," said Jonathan, gesturing at the out-of-earshot warden. "What a bloody chore that was. At least the bugger didn't come by to harass you, Philippa."

Philippa chose not to mention Beni, who had proved to be far more of a nuisance than the warden could be, and hoped that their time in Hamunaptra would end by tomorrow.

When nighttime arrived she hung around Jonathan, the only one who truly believed in her innocence over the puzzle box, and listened to him tell stories about the exploring he had done earlier. "Those beastly Americans thought they could take our digging spot," he said. "You'd think they had their names carved on it or something. Evy wants to try the statue of Horus tomorrow, unless we can—I say, do you hear that?"

Philippa _did_ hear it. "Sounds like gunshots."

She didn't need to say it twice. Rick, who sat around the campfire with Evelyn, cleaning his guns, leaped to his feet the moment he heard the shots. "Sounds like we've got trouble." He warned Evelyn to stay put while he ran towards the sound of gunfire, but Evelyn wouldn't listen and went tearing off after him. Jonathan, more worried about his sister than his own safety for once, ran after Evelyn and Philippa followed, hating the thought of being alone while there was violence in the air.

"What do you think is going on?" she panted as she jogged after Jonathan.

But she soon got her answer. Black-robed horsemen, the same men who had attacked the barge, rode into camp brandishing weapons, and Philippa lost her head as soon as she saw the chaos that ravaged the camp. She sprinted away from Jonathan's side, ignoring him as he called her name, and dove behind a crumbling piece of wall. Shouts and gunshots filled her ears as she hid from the battle, and she thought she was safe until hooves pounded towards her hiding spot. Hardly knowing what she was doing, Philippa snatched up a rock and hurled it at the horseman, grateful that her papa had taught her to play darts a few years ago.

She struck the man square in the face, which gave her just enough time to scramble off to a new hiding place.

Philippa couldn't see much from where she crouched on the dusty ground, but soon the battle ended just as suddenly as it began. One of the black-robed horsemen, a man with tattoos on his face who appeared to be the leader, issued some warning that Philippa didn't understand and rode away, taking his armed companions with him. As soon as the men disappeared, Philippa stumbled out of hiding and jogged towards Rick, who was thankfully alive and well.

"We've gotta get out of here." The words tumbled from Philippa's mouth, she was so shaken up. "We're gonna get killed!"

"Those tattooed bastards just want the treasure for themselves," said Daniels, who overheard her.

Rick looked at Philippa, taking in her wide eyes and slack mouth. "Relax," he said. "Nobody's getting killed."

"You can't possibly know that," said Philippa. "I want you to pack everything up and take me back to Cairo. Please."

"Hey, don't come crying to me, _sis_. You're the one who wanted to tag along, remember?"

"Some brother _you_ are. I'm glad I didn't grow up with you. My childhood would have been a nightmare."

"Wait, I'm sorry," said Rick, but it was too late. Philippa strode away, not caring where she went as long as it was away from him. "Philippa!" Rick called out.

He sounded guilty and apologetic, but Philippa didn't care. Nothing could possibly comfort her after nearly getting shot at for the _second_ time since she arrived in Egypt. She didn't even realize somebody was watching her until a familiar little snicker reached her ears, and she found Beni standing by himself in the dark.

"What are you laughing at?" asked Philippa.

"You and O'Connell," Beni replied. One of his hands was curled around something, though it was too dark to see what it was.

"Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," said Philippa.

"You should have stayed with _our_ team. You do not need O'Connell."

"Because you're such a prize, aren't you?"

"I know when to run," said Beni. "I do not care about acting brave just to make myself look good."

Philippa didn't know why Beni's words calmed her, but they did, and she edged closer to him. He wasn't an ideal companion and he seemed to enjoy laughing at her expense, but she would rather put up with Beni then encounter Rick again, which was bound to be awkward. "What's that in your hand?" she asked.

Beni grinned and held out his hand, revealing the puzzle box in the middle of his palm. "You all made such fools of yourselves looking for this thing. It was right in front of you all along."

"How did you get that?" Philippa demanded. "Henderson says he searched you."

"We are in a desert. There are plenty of hiding places beneath the sand."

"Well what are you doing with it now?"

"I did not want those horsemen to kick it up."

Philippa reached for the puzzle box, but Beni was too fast and kept it out of reach. "Now, Beni, be a dear, won't you?" said Philippa. "You've got to let me have it."

"Only for a price," said Beni.

Philippa didn't have much money, but there was nothing for her to spend it on anyway. "Name your price, then."

Beni smiled again, his eyes gleaming wickedly in the dark. "Sleep with me and it is yours."

Philippa stared at him for a long moment, then swallowed hard and said, "You have yourself a deal."


	10. Missed Opportunity

Philippa couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned on her bedroll for what felt like hours, regretting the nap she had taken earlier. The warden snored loudly enough to wake the dead and Philippa tried to cover her ears, but at last she gave up and rose to her feet, shivering in the cold desert air. The campfire had burned down to a few pathetic embers and she sat down as close as she dared, just in case some faint bit of warmth managed to rise up and reach her. Before arriving in Egypt she had never imagined that the desert could get so cold, or that a bunch of ancient ruins could be so dull, or that the local tribesmen could get so violent.

She had calmed down considerably since the attack on the camp, but she was still determined to leave Hamunaptra as soon as possible. Who knew what disaster could happen if they lingered another day? They wouldn't get any treasure of course, but at least they would have _something_ once Philippa got the puzzle box back from Beni.

She looked across the camp, past the sleeping forms of Rick, Jonathan, Evelyn, and the warden, until her eyes landed on Beni sleeping some distance away on a makeshift bed. He slept on his back, still wearing the red fez that obscured his hair, and Philippa wondered if she should sneak over and take the puzzle box from him. Unless he had hidden it beneath the sand again, but surely it was worth a try to search him. She knew she could easily tell Rick or the three Americans that Beni had the artifact, which would solve her problem and save her from sleeping with Beni, but Philippa wanted to be useful for once. She wanted to fix this problem herself.

She heard movement and looked away from Beni, only to find Rick walking towards her. It was obvious that he was trying to be quiet, but subtlety wasn't his strong point and he made his awkward way to the campfire, then proceeded to stare down at her like he'd never seen her before in his life.

"Uh, hi," Rick murmured. "Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead," said Philippa.

He settled down beside her and proceeded to stare at the mostly-dead fire, looking uncomfortable. "Look, I don't trust this place any more than you do, all right?"

"Then why don't we pack up and get out of here?" asked Philippa.

" 'Cause _she's_ gotta give the word," said Rick, pointing at the sleeping Evelyn. "If she wants to stay, then we stay."

"You really like her, don't you?"

"That's got nothing to do with it."

"But you do, don't you?"

"What's it matter?"

It mattered because Philippa knew she was second place, though she wouldn't tell that to Rick. "It shows that you're more than just a tough guy who knows how to use a gun," she said. "Fellows like you have gotta have a soft spot _somewhere_."

Rick shifted in his seat, lapsing into an embarrassed silence. After a long pause he looked at her and said, "So, uh, are we all right now?"

"I'm not mad anymore, if that's what you mean," said Philippa. "It's hard to stay mad at you for long."

"Good to know."

"But I still want to get out of here."

"Tell that to Evelyn, not me. She's not gonna rest until she finds that golden book of hers."

Which meant that Philippa needed to retrieve the puzzle box as soon as possible, or else she would never win Evelyn's favor. "So I guess I can look forward to another fun day in Hamunaptra," she said lightly.

"Didn't I tell you I'd be a lousy brother?" said Rick.

"Oh, you're not a lousy brother. You could be a whole lot worse, you know."

"Thanks, I guess. You're not so bad either."

Philippa felt much better when she returned to her bedroll and closed her eyes, though she still felt wide-awake and listened to Rick go back to bed. The minutes ticked by and Philippa kept her ears open, listening to Rick's breathing become slower and slower, until it finally relaxed into the soft rhythm of sleep. Careful not to make a sound, she got to her feet a second time and crept across the sand, taking one step at a time until she reached Beni's sleeping form.

She hovered next to him, gazing wide-eyed in the dark for some familiar sight of the stolen artifact. Beni had no personal possessions, no bag or anything similar that could possibly contain the puzzle box, and after sifting through the sand Philippa decided to search Beni's person. Perhaps he had slipped it into a pocket for safekeeping. Practically holding her breath, Philippa bent down and gently started to pat down Beni's clothes, hating the thought of actually touching him. Her fingers encountered nothing but cloth, seams, and buttons, while Beni continued to lie on his back and breath through his mouth.

She straightened up and studied the fez that fit snugly on Beni's head. When Henderson had been looking for the puzzle box, he made Philippa take off her hat and show him that it was empty, and the longer she stared at Beni's fez the more she started to wonder. Why else would he wear a hat to bed?

Philippa inched over so she could take the fez more easily and reached out with one careful hand. Her fingers grasped the top of the hat and she pulled as slowly as she could, but not slowly enough. Beni jerked awake and clapped a thin hand around her wrist, his grip surprisingly strong for someone who wasn't fully awake.

"And what is this?" he murmured, looking up at her with eyes that grew more alert by the second. "Eager to give me my payment already?"

Philippa let go of the fez, but Beni still had his hold on her. "Maybe," she said with a false smile. "If you're not too tired."

Beni's eyes narrowed. "Then what did you want with my hat?"

"To undress you, silly."

"You do not need to remove your hat in order to screw." Finally releasing Philippa, Beni sat up and adjusted his fez, which had gotten loose thanks to Philippa's meddling. "I think you are trying to get out of paying me."

"Now why would I do a thing like that?" said Philippa. "I made a deal with you fair and square."

"Come over and sit on my lap, then."

"First I want to see the puzzle box. Just to make sure you're not cheating me."

"You will not find it." Beni removed his fez to show her its empty interior, then placed it back on his head. "First you pay me, and then I will give it to you."

Philippa was secretly thinking all of the curses she knew, but on the outside she continued to smile. "Well if you're gonna be strict, darling, then so am I. You'll get your payment later, but _I_ get to pick the time and place."

"Then let me go back to sleep," Beni grumbled. "And do not bother trying to find what you're looking for."

Philippa didn't intend to do any more searching that night. She left Beni in a hurry, aware that he was watching her as she snuck across the camp, and her eyes finally felt heavy as she settled down for the third time. Beni was lying on his back once more, no longer keeping his eye on her, but after some hesitation Philippa moved her bedroll closer to Rick. Having a gun-slinging older brother had its uses.

Too tired to let the warden's snoring bother her, she managed to drift off to sleep and woke up to the sound of crackling flames and low voices. It seemed she had been the last to awaken. Sleeping in the same clothes for multiple nights in a row, combined with sleeping on the ground, made her feel miserable and she remained motionless on her bedroll, blinking sleepily at the orange haze of the campfire. She hadn't woken up feeling so lousy since that big party she attended in New York last year, the one held at that bootlegger's mansion. Or at least he was rumored to be a bootlegger; Philippa never found out for sure, but the party had been exciting all the same, at least until she woke up with a splitting headache.

She didn't have a headache this time around, but waking up after days spent in the desert was nearly as bad.

"By Jove, I think she's alive," said Jonathan, sounding much too loud to Philippa's ears. He crouched down near Philippa, peering into her half-open eyes, and gave her a tired smile. "You slept like a log, Philippa. Put _my_ sleeping habits to shame, you did."

Philippa struggled to sit up, suddenly self-conscious. "Is there food left?" she mumbled.

"There isn't much, but we saved you some," said Evelyn. She produced some of the breakfast, looking far more awake than Philippa felt, and set it down beside her. "You might want to wash up a bit first."

Philippa felt more alive once she washed up and ate something, though there was nothing she could do to make her slept-in clothes feel more comfortable. Convincing everyone to leave Hamunaptra was also impossible, since Evelyn had already started planning their next dig and urged them all to get ready, since there was no telling what the Americans' team would find. Rick caught Philippa's eye and shrugged, silently telling her, _I told you so._

"Now, we may be able to convince the Americans to let us have Anubis," Evelyn was saying. "But if that doesn't work, we can search for the statue of Horus instead."

"How many statues are in this place, anyway?" asked Rick.

"I do not care, as long as I get rich," said the warden, his eyes lighting up. "Do not forget my twenty-five percent."

"I ought to tell him where he can _shove_ his bloody twenty-five percent," Jonathan muttered to Philippa. "Are you coming along this time, love?"

Philippa wasn't sure if she cared so much about the treasure anymore, since getting rich seemed more trouble than it was worth. On the other hand, she hated the thought of being alone when those black-robed men could attack any minute. "I don't know," she said slowly. "This place seems awful dangerous."

"Yes, but we all survived our first little trip down there, didn't we?"

"What about the other team? Three of their diggers got melted yesterday."

"Well, we're not the other team," said Jonathan. "We're smarter than that lot. We've got Evy, after all, and the old girl might be clumsy but she knows what she's doing."

"All right, then," said Philippa. "I'll go. But if anything happens to me down there, I'll never forgive you."

"Fair enough."

Evelyn decided she would ask the other team about Anubis, while Rick agreed to accompany her as support, which according to Rick meant carrying his guns where the other men could see them. "Anyone else wanna join the party?" Rick asked, checking the ammo on one of his pistols.

"I'll go," said Philippa.

Rick raised an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

"I might not be any good with tools, but I can be _very_ persuasive, dear brother."

"I know," said Rick.

Eager to spend more time with her brother and hopefully do something useful, Philippa followed Rick and Evelyn to the other side of the camp, where Daniels, Burns, and Henderson prepared to continue their exploration. Beni lurked somewhere in the background, while Dr. Chamberlain gave instructions to the Egyptian diggers, issuing orders in loud Arabic. Daniels looked up from the tool he was polishing and broke the silence first.

"And what are _you_ doing here?"

"We would like to bargain with you," said Evelyn. "Apparently you had a bit of an accident with some of your diggers yesterday—"

" _A bit_ don't even describe it, lady," Henderson cut in.

"Yes, well... I can imagine you would prefer to avoid more accidents. Why don't you let us take over the statue of Anubis for today?"

"What's in it for us, huh?" said Daniels.

"There's another statue," Evelyn said patiently. "The statue of Horus. I believe I can tell you how to find it."

Burns looked at the gun in Rick's hand, then Evelyn's face, and finally rested his gaze upon Philippa, looking thoughtful. "Why is this Anubis statue so important, anyway?"

"The golden book, of course," said Philippa. "Why else would we waste all this time arguing?"

Henderson let out a low whistle. "Did you say _golden_ book? Well, the doc never told us about _that_."

Philippa felt like a fool yet again.

"Now you've done it," Rick muttered under his breath.

"I thought they already knew about it," Philippa muttered back.

"Well," said Evelyn, looking as if her last hopes had been crushed. "No use lingering around here any longer. The statue of Horus is ours, then."


	11. Locked

Hamunaptra felt like a tomb on the inside. Not that Philippa had seen any tombs to compare it to, but the place gave her a feeling of gloom and decay, the perfect home for ghosts, walking skeletons, and other horrors. Evelyn, who had barely spoken to Philippa since the confrontation with the Americans' team, led the group with a torch in her hand, lighting the way through the gloomy passages, and Philippa found herself longing for the sweltering heat and blinding sunshine of the outside world. At least the desert didn't remind her of corpses and haunted houses.

Rick carried another torch, a pistol held firmly in his other hand, and Philippa was grateful for the guns that Rick carried at all times. She had lost count of how many minutes they had been walking underground, but each minute felt like an hour and she mentally composed a letter in her head, making note of everything she would tell her friends once she found some paper and a pen. Getting attacked by mysterious men in black sounded a lot nicer when it was romanticized in a letter.

Evelyn halted the group, deciding which way to turn in the twisting underground passages, and Philippa could have sworn she felt a hand on her backside. The only person standing behind her was the warden, who wandered off a few paces, singing aimlessly to himself in Arabic, and Philippa scowled but didn't press the matter. Instead she moved closer to Jonathan, who remained cheerful despite the gloom, and hoped they didn't find any snakes or scorpions or whatever frightening creatures might dwell in such a place.

"All right there, Philippa?" Jonathan murmured.

Something about his voice reassured her in the darkness. "Of course I'm all right, dear," she replied, taking him by the arm. "This is just like a stroll through the park, isn't it?"

"Now I wouldn't put it in _those_ exact words, but this is quite an adventure. Just wait until we discover the wealth of Egypt."

"As long as we don't discover something horrible instead."

"Yes, well, I'm not much good in a fight, but at least I'm good company," Jonathan assured her.

Philippa kept a hold on Jonathan's arm, glad to have someone to ease the tension, and decided that dark underground chambers weren't so bad after all. Evelyn continued to lead the way, her torch burning brightly through the darkness, and Philippa felt a shiver of excitement as they turned the corner of the passage. What if they _did_ find the wealth of Egypt? They would become world-famous for such a discovery, even more famous than that Howard Carter fellow that Jonathan told her about, the one who found the tomb of that young pharaoh a few years back. What was one little pharaoh compared to the wealth of Egypt?

Something caught her eye as they turned another corner. Releasing Jonathan, she turned towards one of the walls and found it studded with blue, oval-shaped objects, all of them identical. "Say, what's this?" she said, stepping closer to the wall.

Jonathan's face brightened as he followed her gaze. "Looks like our first bit of treasure."

"Doesn't look like much," said Philippa. "What are these things, anyway?"

Evelyn brought her torch close by, highlighting the blue ovals that spotted the wall. "Scarab beetles," she said with enthusiasm. "They eat human flesh."

"Nice," said Rick.

"The only good bug is a dead bug," said the warden, eying up the scarabs with interest. "Or one that will fetch money." He nudged Philippa out of the way and began taking scarabs from the wall, eyes lit up with greed as he stored them in his bag.

"Hey, save some bugs for the rest of us," said Philippa.

"Then get some while they are still here," the warden replied. "Or else you lose."

Philippa took his advice and pulled the beetles from the wall, placing them carefully in her handbag while Jonathan watched. "I wonder how much these'll sell for," she said.

"A good amount, I'm sure," said Jonathan. "You'll be sharing those, of course?"

"Of course. We're partners, Mr. Carnahan."

"You guys done with those bugs yet?" Rick asked.

Between the two of them, Philippa and the warden managed to remove every scarab from the wall, though the warden was faster and took a larger share. Her spirits significantly higher, Philippa took Jonathan's arm again and followed Rick, who led the way towards yet another mysterious passage. "So what are you gonna do first if we strike it rich?" she asked Jonathan.

"Buy something extravagant, no doubt," said Jonathan. "Something _outrageous_ , like the fanciest car I can get my hands on. Then I'll top it off with some fine liquor, an expensive meal, and a box of cigars. What about you, my dear?"

"Oh, gee. I don't know. Buy all the obvious things, I guess, like clothes and fine food. Maybe buy a fancy house out in the middle of the woods to throw parties in. You'd go to one of my parties, wouldn't you?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the whole bloody world."

"You're not rich _yet_ ," Rick reminded them both, shattering everything with his blunt realism. "And look, we found Horus. Hope he doesn't mind a little digging."

Philippa had been so busy imagining her future wealth, she hardly noticed that they had found the statue of Horus, which turned out to be a bird-like creature that stood against the wall. "Now according to the Bembridge scholars," said Evelyn, shining her torch upon the statue, "we ought to find a compartment within the statue's base."

"And then what?" said Rick.

"If we're lucky, we'll find the Book of the Dead."

"Book of the Dead?" Philippa echoed. "Sounds awfully creepy."

"Not if it brings us some money," said Jonathan.

"I sure hope you're right."

Rick started digging at the base of the statue, aided by Evelyn and the warden, who only seemed eager to help because of his promised twenty-five percent. Jonathan hovered around and made excuses, but finally pitched in after Rick ordered him, which left Philippa to hold a torch in each hand while her companions worked on the statue. She supposed that five people digging at a single statue would have been terribly crowded, though she felt like more of a fifth wheel than ever and wondered what the other team was up to. Was Beni right when he said she was better off with the Americans' team?

An exclamation pulled her attention back to the statue and Philippa edged forward, trying to get closer without burning something with her torches.

"Here." She pushed one of the torches into the warden's hand and stood beside Rick. "Did you find it?"

"That's what we're about to find out," said Rick.

The moment Evelyn uncovered a flash of gold—a shade of gold so pure and beautiful, it seemed unreal—Philippa was so startled that she dropped her torch and didn't bother to pick it up.

"Good God!" Jonathan exclaimed. "Is it... is it really...?"

"It is," Evelyn said softly, gazing down at the golden book in awe. "But this _can't_ be right. The Bembridge scholars have insisted that the Book of Amun-Ra is located in the statue of Anubis." A triumphant grin spread across her face as the information sank in. "The scholars were _wrong_. Oh, I can't wait until they find out the truth of the matter!"

Jonathan could barely speak and nodded his head absently, keeping his eyes fixed upon the solid gold book. Philippa felt just as awestruck and saw piles of money in her mind, accompanied by a new wardrobe and enough parties to entertain all of New York. She didn't even mind that the warden appeared to be drooling at the sight of the treasure.

Rick seemed the least impressed with the discovery. "So, you got what you wanted," he told Evelyn.

"Oh, yes," said Evelyn.

"Which means I'm bringing you back to Cairo."

"Yes, of course. The Museum of Antiquities will need to see this as soon as possible."

Rick looked visibly relieved. "Good."

"We're leaving, then?" said Philippa, tearing her gaze away from the book.

"First thing tomorrow," said Rick.

"But... but we haven't found the wealth of Egypt yet!"

"Weren't you yelling at me yesterday 'cause you wanted to leave?" said Rick, looking confused.

Philippa had forgotten all about the dangers of Hamunaptra once she set eyes upon actual treasure. The sight of that golden book reminded her of why she had gone on this trip in the first place, and her earlier arguments with Rick seemed trivial in retrospect. "I changed my mind," she said, wishing that she and Rick could stay on the same page for once. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," said Rick. "But we're still heading out of here."

Philippa chose to ignore him and drew closer to Evelyn, who appeared to be reading the cover of the book, though Philippa saw nothing but strange symbols she couldn't decipher.

"So how do we open it?" Jonathan asked eagerly.

"Looks like it needs a key," said Evelyn, placing her hand upon an indentation that might have been a lock. "Of _course_. It's the exact shape the puzzle box makes when you twist it."

"The puzzle box," Philippa murmured.

If the puzzle box was indeed the key to open the book, then Philippa would have to think fast on how to handle Beni. She supposed she was strangely fond of him, despite the fact that he lived to annoy her, and she figured that sleeping with him wouldn't be _that_ bad, but she still wished she could find some other way to obtain the key. She had already learned that she couldn't steal it and she doubted she could coax it out of Beni, which left her with the option of keeping her end of the deal and sleeping with him.

Surely it wouldn't be so bad. Better than sleeping with the warden or Dr. Chamberlain, that was certain.

Besides, if she told Rick she knew about the key, he would want to know why she didn't speak up sooner, and then she would feel like a fool. It was better to play Beni's game and prove that she could handle her own problems.

The trip back to camp felt much shorter than the trip to the statue and in no time at all, Philippa found herself back in the outside world, away from the gloom and darkness of underground. The golden book in Evelyn's arms shone beneath the sun, bright enough to hurt Philippa's eyes, and she pulled her hat down lower upon her head.

"You might want to hide that thing," Rick told Evelyn, gesturing at the book. "Somebody might steal it."

Rick's advice proved to be the right course of action. The Americans' team returned from their digging site, though Beni was not among them, and grumbled about the lack of treasure. "All we found was a lousy black book," Daniels said with a scowl. "And an old chest to go with it. No gold, no jewels, no nothin'."

"I thought you said that book would be made of gold," Henderson told Philippa.

"Guess I was mistaken," Philippa said innocently. "Where's Beni at?"

"He took off running and disappeared. Somethin' about a curse, but that's all superstitious bullshit."

"Maybe the desert swallowed him up," said Daniels. "Then we won't have to pay the bastard."

Philippa decided to look for Beni on her own and wandered through the camp, keeping her eyes open for that familiar red fez. She _did_ find the hat she was looking for, though it was a different fez that belonged to Dr. Chamberlain, and Philippa would have walked right past him if it wasn't for the black chest sitting in his tent. Philippa couldn't see much, but she could have sworn she saw Chamberlain remove part of the chest and take out an object, though she wasn't close enough to see it properly. Chamberlain sensed her presence outside the tent and hastily hid whatever he was holding, an even sterner look on his face than usual.

"And what exactly are you doing, sneaking about like that?" he demanded.

"Nothing," said Philippa. "I'm just looking for Beni."

"I can't imagine why. A man like _that_ ought to have stayed in whatever slum he was born in, rather than mix himself up in respectable matters. Now be off with you, girl."

Philippa didn't find Beni until nighttime fell and everyone gathered around the campfire, trying to enjoy the meager food rations. He came slinking out of nowhere and sat himself right next to Philippa, close enough to touch her leg if he wanted to. She had sat close to him before, but she had never felt so keenly aware of him and tried to imagine what it would be like if he _did_ touch her leg, among other places. He turned to look at her with a satisfied smirk, as if he could read her mind, and Philippa wished that Jonathan hadn't fallen asleep so soon. She could really use his company.

"Do you plan to sleep well tonight?" Beni asked.

"Maybe," said Philippa. "I worked awfully hard down in those ruins. I could definitely use a rest."

"You are a liar," Beni scoffed at her. "You didn't work at all."

"Neither did you. And at least _I_ didn't run outside like a fraidy-cat."

"Why do you keep calling me a cat?"

"Oh, Beni," Philippa said with a sigh. "You have a lot to learn."

Beni shifted a bit closer to her, one hand dangerously close to her thigh. "You'll have to teach me, then."

She laughed and gently swatted his hand away. "Maybe later, dear. I'd like to get to know you a little better first. What do you wear all that jewelry for anyway?"

Beni frowned down at the numerous chains he wore around his neck. "It's not jewelry."

"Looks like jewelry to me. Is it valuable?"

"It is valuable if you're in trouble." Beni pulled out one of the necklaces and showed her the cross on the end.

"I didn't know you were religious."

He smirked at her. "I'm a man of all faiths."

Seeing the cross on the chain reminded Philippa that she wasn't empty-handed. She may not have any protective amulets to offer Beni in exchange for the key, but she _did_ have a small bit of treasure that might interest him. Her handbag sat several feet away, close to her bedroll, and she left the campfire so she could cross the short distance to her bag.

"What are you doing?" Beni asked.

But Philippa ignored him and pulled one of the scarab beetles out of her handbag. She set the scarab upon the sand, admiring the way it looked in the flickering glow from the campfire, and figured that several of the beetles would be enough to buy the key from Beni. She would just tell Jonathan that she got a hole in her bag and the beetles fell out.

She smiled to herself, her back turned to Beni. He wasn't the only one who could come up with clever plans.

A cracking sound caught her attention and she realized that her scarab was breaking of its own accord. "What the..." Something small and black hurtled out of the blue shell, or whatever it was, and headed straight for Philippa's leg. A cry of pain escaped her lips as the creature bit her, but that was the least of her worries. Somehow the beetle got _under_ her skin and all Philippa could do was scream, staring at her leg in horror as a small round shape traveled upwards.

The sight of Rick holding a knife was the last thing she saw before she fainted.


	12. A Better Place

"Well, sis," said Rick. "You had enough of this place yet?"

Philippa didn't know what time it was, but the campfire was dying down and the moon shone bright in the sky, casting a faint light upon the sand. "I can't get out of here fast enough," Philippa said with a shudder. She sat upon her bedroll and kept expecting dark creatures to come out of nowhere and devour her flesh, even though Rick had destroyed every scarab that she and the warden collected. He managed to cut out the scarab that attacked her too, after she lost consciousness, and now Philippa had a dull ache right above her hip, where Rick had pulled up her dress and made the cut.

"Are you _sure_ you're all right?" Jonathan asked for the third time that evening. He sat close to Philippa, his hair rumpled from sleep. "You gave me quite a scare when you woke me up with that scream. Must have frightened at least five years off my life, I would bet."

"I'm all right _now_ ," said Philippa. "But remind me never to touch anything that looks like a bug."

"Well I sure as hell ain't sleepin' tonight," said Daniels. He and his companions remained close to the fire, clearly shaken up after the scarab attacked Philippa. "And I ain't stickin' around here neither. There might be somethin' even worse than killer bugs under that sand."

"So we're just going to give up?" asked Burns.

"Would _you_ like to have a bug burrow inside of you?"

"Of course not," said Burns. "I was just asking."

Philippa wished they would talk about something else. "You should come along with us," she said. "It'll be a party."

"Yeah, a party without any gold," said Henderson. "What a goshdarned waste of time this trip was."

Beni sat apart from the three Americans, though he was close enough to hear their conversation. Philippa couldn't tell what his reaction to the scarab was, but he wouldn't stop sneaking glances at her with a strange look on his face, as if the two of them shared a joke. "Just remember," he said. "I still expect my full payment."

Daniels glowered at him. "You can shut your mouth."

"I wouldn't stay here if I were you," said Beni, ignoring Daniels. "Didn't I say that this place is cursed?"

"Three of our diggers _did_ get melted," said Burns. "And then the thing with that beetle happened. Not to mention the attack on our camp. Maybe this place doesn't want us to be here."

"Look, we'll decide in the morning if we stay or go," said Henderson. "I don't know about you fellas, but I'm gettin' some shut-eye."

"Well _I_ ain't gonna sleep tonight," Daniels said again, fingering the handle of his pistol.

"I don't think I'll be sleeping either," Philippa told Jonathan. "I would just have nightmares, I'm sure. Did I really scare you as badly as you say I did?"

"I thought someone was being murdered, my dear girl," said Jonathan. "And you may not believe this, but I _was_ very, very worried about you."

Philippa fell silent and absently touched her dress, feeling the makeshift bandage that lay underneath. Rick had tied a strip of cloth around her waist to staunch the bleeding, though the wound continued to ache, and Philippa shivered as a light breeze played with the ends of her hair. Maybe Burns was right about Hamunaptra. Maybe the ancient city _wanted_ them gone and would do all it could to drive them away.

Somehow she managed to fall asleep and woke up with only a faint reminder of last night's pain. Rick had already loaded the camels by the time she awoke and Jonathan made a fuss over her, wanting to know if she got enough sleep and felt "quite all right" after her ordeal. Philippa appreciated the attention and assured him that all was well, but she found that she couldn't look at Jonathan for long, remembering her deal with Beni.

Her team was leaving within the hour, but the Americans still hadn't decided if they wanted to join them. If they decided to stay in Hamunaptra, then Beni would stay with them, keeping the puzzle box and robbing Evelyn of the chance to explore the golden book. Beni loitered around the camp, looking amused as the Americans argued amongst themselves, and Philippa approached him while Jonathan was busy dousing the campfire.

"So are you staying here or going to Cairo?" Philippa asked.

"I don't know," said Beni. He had that strange look on his face again, the one Philippa had noticed last night.

"Have I got something on my face?" asked Philippa.

"No."

"Then why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Nice underwear," Beni said with a grin.

Philippa thought she had misunderstood him, though his accent wasn't _that_ bad. "What did you say?"

"Nice underwear," Beni repeated.

"And how would you know what my underwear looks like?"

"I saw it last night, when O'Connell cut out the bug."

Philippa had been unconscious when Rick pulled up her dress and she didn't feel too embarrassed after the fact, since she had been too busy recovering from the trauma and the pain, but embarrassment flooded her the moment she heard Beni's words. "Did _everyone_ see?" she asked quietly.

"No," said Beni. "I just happened to be in the right place. Maybe I'll be in an even better place if you let me."

"You won't get a chance if your team stays here," said Philippa. "I'm leaving for Cairo soon, so you'd better convince your team to get out of here."

"And why do _you_ care if I get a chance or not?" asked Beni. His eyes bore into Philippa's, making her aware yet again of how close he was. "You keep playing your little games with me, acting like you don't want it, but you _do_ want to sleep with me, don't you?"

"Don't be silly. I only agreed because I want that puzzle box."

"And you also want to sleep with me."

Philippa knew she should walk away, but Beni's gaze held her like a trap. "Now you're just trying to flatter yourself, but it's not going to work."

"I don't need to flatter myself. I know I am right."

"Hey, Philippa!" Rick shouted, breaking the spell-like quality of Beni's words. "Come pick out what animal you wanna ride!"

Philippa hurried away from Beni, glad for an excuse to end their conversation, and found the horse she had ridden while traveling with the Americans. "What were you talking to Beni for?" Rick asked as he helped her load the horse with supplies.

"Nothing much," Philippa said lightly. "Just wanted to know if his team is staying put."

"Huh," said Rick, sounding skeptical. "Be careful around that little buddy of mine, all right?"

"Oh, he's not so bad when you get used to him."

"Yeah, but you don't know him like I do."

Perhaps it was the ominous breeze that kept blowing through the camp, or perhaps it was Beni's clever persuasion, but the Americans decided to leave Hamunaptra and return to Cairo, where they could hopefully gain some attention for the black book and the chest. Chamberlain seemed perfectly content to leave, though he kept a careful watch on the chest and snapped at anyone who tried to touch it, while Evelyn returned the favor by keeping the gold book carefully hidden. Philippa felt a bit of regret at failing to discover the wealth of Egypt, but that regret soon faded as she sat upon her horse and followed everyone out of the lost city.

They were headed back to the real world at last. Soon Philippa would board a ship to New York, back to her mother and all her dear friends, and she would finally get a chance to bond with Rick the way she had wanted to all along. She may have been useless in the desert, but Philippa had the upper hand in the big city and would show her brother that she _could_ be a marvelous sister, if he would give her a chance and see.

Philippa found herself riding near Henderson, who still seemed disappointed at his endless stream of poor luck. "So that book is the only thing you found in the chest?" she remarked.

" 'Course it is," said Henderson. "We would be bragging if we found somethin' else, wouldn't we?"

Philippa remembered that she had caught Chamberlain messing about with the chest, though she hadn't been able to see what had caught his attention. "You sure the chest doesn't have any more openings?"

"We didn't look at it too closely," Henderson admitted. "We were too busy wonderin' why that damn book wasn't made of gold."

"Maybe you should give it another look."

"Do you know somethin' that _I_ don't, missy?"

"No," said Philippa. "Not at all."

Henderson urged his horse ahead of her, though Philippa noticed him shooting a curious look in Chamberlain's direction. The rest of the day passed in a dull, sunny blur, in which Philippa daydreamed about porcelain bathtubs, full-course meals, and clothes that didn't stick to her skin, and she thought she was hallucinating when she noticed the black figures off in the distance, standing motionless in the waning sun.

"Anybody else see that?" she asked, pointing at the distant figures.

"We're being watched," Rick said.

"Watched by who? Those men in black who attacked us?"

Rick didn't reply, but Philippa knew she was right. By the time nightfall arrived she could no longer see the black figures, though she suspected they were still out there somewhere, watching and waiting, though she refused to imagine _what_ they were waiting for exactly. She managed to escape from the scarab beetles, but it seemed she couldn't escape from danger altogether and stayed awake long after everyone had fallen asleep, worried sick about getting attacked again. It was bad enough at Hamunaptra, but now they were out in the open desert and had no place to hide if those mysterious men tried to shoot them. Every little sound made her paranoia worse, until she finally got up and walked across the sand, making her way past sleeping bodies until she found a good place to sit. Might as well play lookout if she wasn't going to sleep.

She heard nothing important for about twenty minutes, until somebody snuck up behind her and said, "Oh, is Philippa having trouble sleeping?"

Only one person could make her name sound so ridiculous. "Why do you keep bothering me?" Philippa whispered.

Beni sat down beside her, his red fez distinct even in the dark. "Because you like it when I bother you," he replied.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because you put up with me," said Beni. "Nobody else puts up with me for long, so it's obvious that you like it."

"You just want the attention, don't you?" said Philippa. "Is that why you won't leave me alone? Because I'm the only one who doesn't chase you off?"

"I don't need attention. Especially from you."

Philippa had never truly noticed before, but she supposed there was something sad about Beni. Underneath his taunts and smirks and shifty behavior, he was just another human being, no different from Philippa or Rick or Jonathan, and perhaps he had a reason for behaving the way he did. What did she know about him, anyway? Absolutely nothing, aside from the fact that he was Hungarian and had religious tendencies, but that wasn't enough to judge him by.

"Why do you want that thing I've got?" Beni asked, breaking through Philippa's thoughts. "That puzzle box, as you call it?"

"It's a secret," said Philippa.

"Oh, come on. Why do you want it so bad? Hoping to impress O'Connell?"

"I told you, it's a secret. Just be happy I made that deal with you."

"Yes, what a great deal," Beni said mockingly. "I haven't even touched you yet. How do I know this isn't just a big lie to make me feel like an idiot?"

"Because I wouldn't do that."

"I think you would. Women like you enjoy that kind of thing."

Philippa sat and stared at Beni, feeling the vast silence of the desert close in around her. Her previous fears floated away and instead she felt giddy, the same way she felt after drinking one too many cocktails, and she wondered if the desert had made her drunk.

"Well I think you're wrong," she whispered to Beni, then leaned in and kissed him.


	13. Easy

Philippa kept her eyes on her horse, feeling tired and uncomfortable in the hot desert sun. They had been riding for over an hour that morning, headed to the river so they could find a boat to Cairo, and Philippa couldn't wait to lock herself up in a cabin and wonder why she kept making a fool of herself. She didn't dare to lift her eyes from the dark mane of her horse, unable to look at Beni, Rick, or Daniels after the night that had passed. _Especially_ Daniels.

She didn't know why she felt so embarrassed. Philippa never felt embarrassed back home, where she was on top of the world with fun and amusement at every corner, but ever since she arrived in Egypt she had felt ridiculous time and time again. She kept her horse at the back of the group so she wouldn't have to talk to anyone, since the only people who rode nearby were the Egyptian diggers who only spoke Arabic, and she tried to guess how long it would take for them to reach a village. She could really use a decent meal and some shade.

"Philippa!" Jonathan called out. He halted his camel, squinting at her in the sun as he tried to distinguish her from the diggers that rode nearby. "You've been lagging behind for ages now!"

"I like lagging behind!" Philippa called back.

"What the bloody hell for?"

Philippa pretended not to hear him and rode on at the same slow pace, grateful that Daniels hadn't opened his big mouth yet. If he had, then surely Jonathan would be looking askance at her instead of wondering why she rode so slowly. It was bad enough that she had woken up that morning to Beni staring at her over breakfast, no doubt wondering what she intended to do next, and Philippa wasn't in the mood for being analyzed by anyone else.

She should have known better than to kiss someone in a camp full of people, even if it _was_ the middle of the night.

They managed to find the same desert village that Philippa had visited with the three Americans and halted for food and supplies. Philippa knew she would have to mingle with her companions eventually, but she still wasn't prepared when Daniels approached her as she dismounted from her horse.

"Didn't know you liked rats, missy," said Daniels. "You shoulda told us sooner. We would've given you Gabor free of charge." He let out an obnoxious barking laugh.

"Don't be a dumbbell," said Philippa. "You haven't told everyone, have you?"

"Nah, but I should. It'd make a great joke and we could all use a laugh around here."

"I don't think it's any of your business. I'll kiss whoever I please."

"Yeah, well if you want somethin' a little better, just remember that _I'm_ always around."

Philippa resisted the urge to throw something at Daniels and trudged over to Rick, hoping they didn't linger too long at the village. Her spur-of-the-moment kiss with Beni had been short-lived when Daniels happened to wake up and see them, interrupting whatever it was that might have happened. She wasn't sure _what_ would have happened if Daniels hadn't caught them, but she had a feeling she had come close to obtaining the key at last. Now she had to endure Daniels taunting her and Beni staring at her, all because she lost her head in the open desert surrounded by people.

Though she had to admit, kissing Beni hadn't been bad.

"Soon we'll be in Cairo," she told Rick. In spite of all they had been through, she still felt a little awkward around him.

"Yeah," said Rick.

"And then we'll be off to New York! You ever been to New York before?"

"No, but—"

"Oh, you'll love it," said Philippa. "I know all sorts of swell people who know how to have a good time. And I know _all_ the best places to get a drink, so you don't have to worry about—"

"Look, Philippa," Rick cut in. "New York sounds great and all, but I never made any promises, all right?"

Philippa stared at him. "That's ridiculous. Of course you're coming to New York with me. Mother would never forgive me if I showed up at her door without you."

"I know. It's just, well, this isn't easy for me. I never knew the woman."

"Which is why you have to come with me, of course. Do you really want to go back to that run-down little apartment with nothing but your guns for company?"

Rick hesitated, casting a subtle little glance in Evelyn's direction. "I've gotta think about it, okay?"

Philippa knew she wouldn't get a better answer. After everyone had eaten and gathered more supplies for the rest of the journey, it was time to ride through the desert once more and Philippa glanced over her shoulder, noticing the same black figures she had spotted yesterday. If those men in black intended to attack them then surely they would have done it earlier, but perhaps they were just biding their time. She chose not to dwell on it and eavesdropped on Henderson, who rode in front of her talking to Chamberlain.

"Say, Doc, you sure there was only a book in that chest?" Henderson asked.

"Why, of course," Chamberlain said stiffly. "Do you take me for an incompetent novice who doesn't know how to handle ancient artifacts?"

" 'Course not. I was just wonderin'."

"Well wonder no more. Once we arrive in Cairo, that chest will be in capable hands."

"And what do _we_ get out of it, huh? I didn't trek out to this desert for nothing."

Chamberlain seemed stiffer than ever. "That will be decided when we reach Cairo."

Philippa wondered if she should tell Henderson about the chest's hidden compartment and started to nudge her horse forward, but Daniels pulled up near Henderson and looked at Philippa like she was a circus act. "How's the rat trap been workin'?" he called out to her.

"Just fine!" Philippa called back with false cheerfulness. She slowed down her horse and let the Americans pull further ahead, not caring if she ended up at the back of the group again. The desert had made her too weary to ride at a faster pace anyway.

"You've been avoiding me."

A camel drew up beside Philippa's horse and Beni smirked at her, seeming to find amusement in everything she did, no matter what it was.

"Why would I avoid you, darling?" said Philippa. "It seems I can't get away from you."

"When are you going to finish what you started last night?" said Beni.

"Is that all you care about? Just a quick good time with a girl you hardly know?"

Beni looked her up and down, a wicked little smile on his lips. "Yes, that is all I care about. And you didn't answer my question. When will you finish what you started?"

"Later."

"And when is later?"

"Whenever I decide it to be."

"That isn't good enough," said Beni, his smile turning into a frown. "I want to know when and where."

Philippa could have easily nudged her horse to a trot to escape from Beni, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Kissing him hadn't been _that_ bad. "When we get on the boat," she told him. "I promise."

"You had better not be lying to me."

"I said I promised, didn't I? Why do _you_ want this deal so badly? Are you really that eager to sleep with me, Beni?"

"I want it because you're easy," said Beni. "And it is hard to find worthwhile women out in the desert."

"What a pity," said Philippa, pretending to look hurt. "And here I was, thinking that you liked me."

"I will like you a whole lot better when I'm screwing you."

Philippa's eyes widened at the bluntness of his words and she glanced around, just to make sure that no one was close enough to overhear. She wanted to hate herself for the strange little thrill that tingled through her body, making her long to do something reckless, and she decided to change the subject. "I've been wondering," she said casually. "How did you and Rick become friends?"

"We were both in the Legion," Beni replied with a hint of contempt. "He would not leave me alone."

" _You_ won't leave _me_ alone. Does that mean we're friends?"

"No."

"How come?"

"Because men and women are never just friends. There is always something they want from each other."

"Now that's not true at all," said Philippa, laughing. "I'm friends with plenty of fellows and that's all it is. We're just friends. I don't go around making silly little deals with _everyone,_ you know."

Beni sneered at her. "I would have never guessed."

"And what makes you say that?"

But Beni didn't respond and rode off ahead of her, swearing at his camel as he urged it to walk faster. The group continued to travel for another few hours, resting a couple of times along the way, until the endless stretch of sand gave way to a riverbank and Philippa found herself gazing at the Nile, the scene of that terrible attack on the barge days before. She remembered how cold, wet, and miserable she had felt the last time she set eyes on the river and reminded herself that everything was different from that first trip on the Nile. They had nothing to lose this time, aside from the golden book, and they were headed _towards_ civilization instead of away from it.

They managed to find a barge headed for Cairo and got on board, leaving the animals behind on the riverbank, and Philippa ended up in a cabin with Evelyn for the second time. She had always liked Evelyn well enough, but the two of them had never gotten the chance to become friendly with each other, mainly because of Philippa's numerous mistakes on the course of their journey. Philippa stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair with the comb she kept in her handbag, and wondered if she should wander on deck in search of a drink when Evelyn broke the silence.

"I believe I may have been a bit... _distant_ over the last few days," Evelyn said. "And I apologize."

"Oh, there's nothing to apologize for," said Philippa, keeping her eyes fixed on her reflection. " _I'm_ the one who kept making a mess of things."

"Yes, and I admit I was rather furious with you a few times. But you _did_ help lead us to the Book of Amun-Ra, even if it was unintentional, and I really am grateful."

Philippa put her comb away and turned to face Evelyn, remembering that wonderful flash of gold she had seen in the underground chamber. "Do you think I could see it again?" she asked. "Just for a moment?"

"Of course."

Evelyn brought out the book, which had been carefully wrapped in cloth, and laid it upon the bed to unwrap it. The gold didn't shine as brightly as it did beneath the desert sun, but it dazzled Philippa's eyes more intensely than all the glamorous sights in New York. "So what's it for?" Philippa asked. "It just can't be for decoration, can it?"

"It's supposed to contain all of the incantations of the Old Kingdom," Evelyn replied. She rested a hand on the ornate lock that embellished the cover. "If only I could open it."

"Yes. If only," Philippa echoed. "Say, do you mind if I go on deck? It's getting awfully stuffy in here."

Evelyn didn't mind and Philippa left the cabin, her heart thumping with anxiety as she walked the narrow hall and stopped at the very last door. She had already learned ahead of time where to find him, and she knew for a fact that everyone else was up on deck, trying to regain normality after the strange events at Hamunaptra. Philippa smoothed out her dress and thought of shining gold, brighter than the sun, then knocked upon the cabin door.

Beni opened the door with his usual smirk, his eyes staring at her in a way that made her feel naked already. Philippa knew it wouldn't be romantic, but she wasn't looking for romance.

"Well," she said, keeping her voice low. "I'm ready."


	14. Wins and Losses

"How was it?"

Philippa sat on the end of the bed and straightened her stockings, trying to make it look like nothing had happened. "I'm not going to tell you."

"Because you don't want to admit how good I was."

"And who says you were good?"

Beni looked smug from his side of the bed, watching Philippa put her shoes back on. "Nobody needs to say anything. It was obvious that you enjoyed it."

Philippa finished buckling her shoes and stood in front of the mirror, making sure that her clothes were in order and her hair was smooth. She could see Beni reflected in the glass, watching her from his seat on the bed, and the look in his eyes made her feel like she had robbed a bank or set a nursery on fire. But that was ridiculous. She had slept with men for worse reasons than gaining the key to an ancient book and besides, she had been craving some fun after escaping that horrible desert. Beni had given her the kind of fun she needed, the kind that was wild and short-lived without any strings attached.

She couldn't form a lasting relationship to save her life, but commitments were no fun anyway. They only led to trouble in the long-run, like her parents' failed marriage, and it was better to be free than to tie herself down to a man who would only disappoint her in the end. She smiled at Beni in the mirror, then turned around and sank down onto the bed, close enough to look into his eyes but too far for him to touch her.

"So I gave you what you wanted," said Philippa. "Now you have to return the favor. Where's the puzzle box?"

Beni leaned against the pillows and didn't move, watching her with calculating eyes. "And why should I give it to you?"

"Because we made a deal, that's why. Now hand it over."

"Maybe I don't have it anymore."

"I know you've got it. Where else would it be?"

"Maybe I threw it in the river."

Philippa searched his face, trying to find a lie, but Beni was as hard to read as ever. "You know, I'll let you kiss me if you hand it over," she said sweetly.

"I do not want to kiss you," Beni scoffed at her. "If you want it, then take your dress back off."

"Now, Beni, don't be that way. The dress stays on."

"What, are you trying to be modest? It is too late for that."

"I'm not the one who came up with this idea in the first place," said Philippa, dropping her persuasive tone. " _You're_ the one who asked me to sleep with you."

"You didn't have to agree," said Beni. "Most women would never screw for something as ridiculous as that puzzle box. I bet you don't even want it."

But of course Philippa wanted it. She wouldn't have agreed to such a terrible deal if she didn't want the key, and who was Beni to decide her wants and needs? He didn't even know her. "I _do_ want it," she said. "And you're going to be a dear and give it to me, because I didn't go through with this for nothing."

Beni sat there and snickered at her instead, looking too comfortable for his own good. "I know your type," he said. "You pretend that you are too good for people like me, when you are actually just as bad."

"That's not true," said Philippa, though her voice sounded weak to her own ears. "Now if you don't hand it over, I'm going to search this whole room, and I won't quit until I find it."

"How do you know it is in here?"

"Really now, Beni!" said Philippa, raising her voice. "Just let me have the puzzle box."

"Philippa, is that _you_ in there?"

Philippa froze, staring at the door in sudden fear as Jonathan's voice came from the other side. "Hello, Jonathan," she said nervously.

"You disappeared right under my nose," Jonathan said from out in the hall. "And I thought you were sharing a cabin with Evy."

"I am. I just... wanted some privacy."

"Oh. Well, er, I'll just be with the Americans if you, um, need anything."

Philippa wanted to throw herself into the river as she listened to Jonathan's footsteps fade away. Of _all_ the people to catch her, it just had to be Jonathan, and she realized that Beni was laughing at her again from his spot on the bed. "You think everything about me is funny, don't you, Beni?" said Philippa. "I'm nothing but a big joke to you."

"That is not true," said Beni. "I take you seriously when you've got your legs open."

"You're such a gentleman."

"If you don't want me to laugh at you, then get on your back for me again."

But Philippa was tired of having fun that evening. She just wanted to take what she had come for and get a drink, the strongest one she could find on board. "I'll tell Rick you've got the puzzle box," she threatened, ignoring Beni's obvious attempts at getting her back into bed.

"No, you won't," said Beni, though a flicker of worry showed up in his eyes.

"Oh yes, I will. And I'll tell him you forced yourself on me."

"And what good will that do? O'Connell does not care about you."

"Of course he cares about me. I'm his sister."

"Oh, sure," said Beni. "You two are so _very_ close. And you have _so_ much in common. O'Connell never cared about you and he never will."

Philippa should have told him to shut up, or at least walked out of the room so she couldn't hear that whiny accent anymore, but his words hit her right to the core. Beni was probably right. It seemed like Beni was _always_ right. "Listen, darling, I'm getting tired of all this," she said, speaking with a lightness she didn't truly feel. "And aren't _you_ getting tired of listening to me beg for that old puzzle box?"

Beni looked at her for a long moment, then reached under the mattress and finally pulled out the key. "Here."

"See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Flashing a genuine smile, Philippa drew closer so she could take the key from Beni's hand, but he suddenly grabbed her and kissed her roughly, making her whimper a bit from the sudden force.

"You're welcome," he said with a sneer, then pushed the key into Philippa's hands. "Now get out."

Philippa grabbed her handbag and stuffed the key inside it, then left the cabin in a daze. The full impact of her decision didn't hit her until she walked on deck beneath the dark cloudless sky, where talking and laughter reached her ears. Why had she done it? She didn't _have_ to be the one to retrieve the key from Beni and she certainly didn't have to agree to his terms, but she did it anyway and got her reward. The key added quite a bit of weight to her handbag and she could feel it dragging on her as she strolled across the deck, as if it was reminding her of all that she had gone through that evening.

When Philippa first agreed to the deal, she imagined a scene full of pride and glory in which she gave her startled team the missing key, but now the image seemed flat in her mind. Why should she give up the key after _she_ had done all the work for it? Everyone thought it was long gone anyway.

Her wound from the scarab beetle started to ache, thanks to her time spent with Beni, and Philippa headed straight for the cluster of tables gathered upon the deck. What she really needed was a good, stiff drink. She found Jonathan sitting with the three Americans, a tall, half-empty glass in his hand, and he cast an uncomfortable look in Philippa's direction as she approached.

"Good evening, fellas," said Philippa, taking an empty seat at the table.

"And where were _you_ , little lady?" Daniels demanded. "Ain't seen you in ages. Ain't seen Gabor either, for that matter."

Jonathan cleared his throat and rose from his seat. "Er, I think I'll get another drink."

Philippa watched him leave and felt all her hopes for the evening come crashing down. Despite the awkward scene earlier, she had counted on Jonathan to raise her spirits and put everything to rights, just as he always did, and now he was walking away like he didn't even know her.

"What's Gabor got to do with anything?" asked Henderson.

"Nothing at all," Philippa said sweetly. "Daniels here is just being funny."

"Oh, you can act shy all you want," said Daniels. "I'd bet the Doc's precious black book that Gabor was pawing all over you just now."

"Come on, Daniels," said Burns. "You're embarrassing her."

"Besides, no girl in her right mind would go near Gabor," said Henderson. "Ain't that right, lady?"

Philippa forced a smile on her face. "Oh, yes. You're exactly right." Daniels snorted, but Philippa ignored him and stood up. "Well, it was nice seeing you boys, but I really should leave."

"You only just got here," Burns tried to protest, but Philippa walked off and tried to find Jonathan among the small crowd of passengers gathered beneath the stars. A gentle breeze came off the river, much less ominous than the breezes at Hamunaptra, and when Philippa didn't find Jonathan she ordered a drink instead. She felt light and carefree by the time she finished it and ordered another one, but she soon grew restless with each new swallow of liquor and started to wander, keeping the drink in her hand as she roved across the deck. A familiar figure in a cream-colored suit stood at the deck railing and Philippa hurried towards him, trying not to spill her drink as she walked.

"Jonathan, what did you run off for?" she asked, placing her free hand on his arm. "I was terribly bored without you."

"Oh, you know," Jonathan said vaguely. "Just needed some air."

"Well I missed you. I was hoping we could have some scotch together, just like the day we first met. Do you remember?"

"Yes, of course." Jonathan fidgeted with the buttons on his sleeve, unable to look Philippa in the eye. "You, ah, weren't with that... that horrid little Beni fellow, were you?"

Philippa, in the middle of sipping her drink, swallowed down the liquor and laughed. "Does it matter if I was? It's not like I love him or anything."

"But Philippa!" Jonathan sputtered, looking scandalized. "Really, my dear girl. You're better than that."

Philippa kept on drinking and leaned against Jonathan, enjoying how solid and warm he felt. "Did you know that I've never been in love? Oh, I loved my papa, of course. He was the world to me. But then he walked out on the family and I haven't loved a man since. Isn't that funny?"

"I say, maybe you should get to bed. Don't you agree?"

Philippa laughed and rested her head on Jonathan's shoulder. "I used to think Papa was so good. He taught me to play cards and throw darts and all sorts of things. And then he had the nerve to run off with some opera singer. Can you believe it? What would he need a fancy old opera singer for, anyway?"

"I don't know," Jonathan murmured. "Now don't you think you should—"

"A fellow like Beni would never disappoint me," Philippa interrupted, gazing up at the dark sky. "He doesn't pretend to be anything but horrible. It's kind of charming, in a way."

"What on earth have you been drinking?" Jonathan took the glass from Philippa's hand and took a swig, draining the last bit of liquor from the bottom. "This is strong stuff, love."

"I know," said Philippa.

"You really ought to lie down, Philippa. Best to sleep this stuff off. O'Connell will have my head if he finds you out here in such a state."

"Oh, Rick won't care. Rick doesn't care anything about me."

"You know that isn't true. Come on, now." Jonathan eased Philippa off of his shoulder and took her by the hand, trying to pull her away from the railing. "Don't you want to go inside and take a nice, lovely nap? You'll have a beastly headache in the morning, of course, but you might as well enjoy yourself in dreamland before it happens."

Philippa let Jonathan drag her away, feeling lost amid the wooden floorboards below and the bright, tiny stars above. She stumbled into the hall where the cabins were located and would have fallen if it wasn't for Jonathan holding her by the hand, keeping her upright and out of harm's way. "You don't belong in this awful country, Jonathan," Philippa told him, gripping his hand just a little tighter. "Have I ever told you that you're the sweetest fellow in Egypt?"

"Really now?" said Jonathan. "Can't say I've ever heard that one before."

"Oh, yes." Philippa leaned her back against the wall, pulling Jonathan towards her. "I don't deserve to know a fellow like you. And you want to know something else?"

"What is it, love?"

Philippa giggled and wrapped her arms around Jonathan's neck. "I think you're the bee's knees."

Then she passed out.


	15. Consequences

Philippa felt like the statue of Anubis had landed on her head. She woke up with the most blinding headache, made worse by the gentle rocking of the barge, and sat up in bed with a weak groan. Her throat was dry and scratchy and she blinked in the late morning light, wishing she could hide in a deep, dark well, far away from the sun's painful rays. What on earth had she done last night? She knew she slept with Beni, of course, and she remembered getting a couple of drinks, but after that her memory was foggy and she struggled to recall how she had ended up in bed.

"Oh, good. You're awake." Evelyn spoke softly, though her voice still grated on Philippa's sensitive ears. "I couldn't find any aspirin on board, but a cup of coffee ought to help." She approached Philippa's bedside with a mug in her hand, looking so fresh and wide-awake that Philippa would have killed to switch places with her.

"Thank you." Philippa blew on the hot coffee and gave it a sip. "You must think I'm a terrible fool."

"I suppose we all have our weaknesses," said Evelyn. "I can't even count the number of times I've brought coffee to Jonathan, just like this."

Jonathan. He had been outside the cabin door when Philippa was speaking to Beni, but then what happened? Philippa drank down more of the coffee and spied her handbag hanging from a hook on the wall, though she was sure she had never placed it there, and her shoes sat neatly in front of the tiny closet. "How did I get here last night?" Philippa wondered aloud. "I can't remember anything."

"Jonathan brought you in and helped you to bed. He said you passed out in the hall."

"Oh, dear. I really _am_ a fool."

"Well, even fools need to eat," said Evelyn. "Would you like me to bring you your breakfast or can you manage on your own?"

Philippa didn't think she could eat anything in her current state, let alone get out of bed. "I think I'll rest for a while longer," she said, sinking back down among the pillows. "My head is killing me."

Evelyn hesitated, looking down at her with anxious eyes, but once she saw that Philippa would survive she gradually relaxed and headed for the door of the cabin. "I'll just be out and about then, and I'll be sure to tell O'Connell that you're feeling indisposed this morning."

Evelyn could have told Rick that Philippa had been eaten by crocodiles and Philippa wouldn't have cared, she felt so lousy. Once Evelyn left the cabin, taking care to shut the door gently, Philippa pulled her blanket over her head to block out the sunlight and went back to sleep. By the time she woke up again her headache had subsided, though she still felt tired and couldn't remember what she had done last night, and the first thing she did after getting out of bed was grab her handbag to look at its contents.

The key was still there, right where she left it, but that didn't mean that Jonathan hadn't seen it. Did it really matter if he had? Philippa had spent days playing her little games with Beni, trying to get that troublesome key, and now that she had it in her possession she longed to throw it into the river and forget it ever existed. She pulled a comb through her short hair, trying to look like she wasn't recovering from a bad hangover, and headed out on deck in search of some breakfast and another cup of coffee. At least she could walk without feeling like the world was collapsing upon her head.

She found Rick and sat across from him at a table on deck, then proceeded to force down some food. Rick watched her without a word for about five minutes, then cleared his throat and shifted about in his seat.

"I heard you had an interesting night," he said.

"You probably know more about it than I do," said Philippa. "I probably did all sorts of terrible things and I can't even remember them."

"Well you didn't set the boat on fire. That's gotta count for something, right?"

"Not much. I must have done _something_ outrageous."

Rick shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "As far as I know, all you did was talk a lot before you passed out. At least that's what Jonathan told me, and we all know how reliable _his_ word is."

"Where _is_ Jonathan?" asked Philippa. "I'd like to talk to him."

"He's around somewhere," said Rick. "Can't go far when you're stuck on a boat."

Philippa looked at Rick, into his blue eyes that looked so much like her own, and wished she could confide in him like siblings were supposed to. Jonathan and Evelyn seemed so comfortable around each other, in spite of their differences and occasional squabbles, and Philippa felt like she had failed in her attempts to get close to Rick. No wonder he wasn't jumping at the chance to sail off to New York with her and meet their family. He probably couldn't wait to pack her off on another boat and go back to living his own life, free from her at last.

"Well, I'm going to go off and find our dear friend Jonathan," Philippa said airily. "I imagine he's having a dull time without me."

She left Rick's table, eager to get away from him, and wandered about until she ran into Evelyn, who told her that Jonathan was in his cabin. Philippa didn't hesitate. She strode down to the cabin that Jonathan shared with Rick, grateful that her headache had faded away with breakfast, and knocked briskly upon the door. A long moment passed, followed by another, and finally Jonathan tugged the door open looking bleary-eyed.

"Mind if I come in?" asked Philippa.

"No, not at all," said Jonathan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I was just having a bit of a rest. Good gracious, what time is it?"

"No idea," said Philippa, stepping into the cabin. "But I think it's still morning, if that makes you feel any better."

"Ah, yes. Good to know."

The two of them stood there and looked at each other awkwardly, unsure of what to say next, and Philippa started to panic. She was used to feeling uncomfortable with Rick and knew that she and Evelyn would never be great friends, but she wasn't supposed to feel awkward around Jonathan. Jonathan was her ally, the one who understood her the best, and he was supposed to clap her on the shoulder with a carefree laugh and tell her what a grand old night they had.

The night had apparently not been grand.

"So, um... I can't remember what happened last night," said Philippa. "All I know is that I drank too much. I'm afraid I might have done something unbearably silly."

"You _were_ a bit silly, but you did nothing more harmful than blather on for a while."

"Yes, that's what Rick said."

"Why don't you, ah, have a seat?" said Jonathan, gesturing at a chair. "You must be feeling dreadful after drinking the way you did."

Philippa took the offered seat, though she didn't feel any less awkward. Jonathan fidgeted in a chair of his own, looking everywhere but her eyes, and when he spoke again he sounded strangely uneasy. "Now, Philippa, I don't intend to place any blame upon you, but I... well, I did catch a glimpse of something last night, when I was hanging up your bag."

"Oh," said Philippa.

"How long have you had that old puzzle box we've all been wondering about?"

"Beni had it. He wouldn't just give it to me, so I... I made a deal with him. The only kind of deal a man like him will accept."

Jonathan still refused to look at her. "I see. And that would explain why I, um, found you in a strange cabin talking to the little bugger."

Philippa nodded, meeting his eyes. "Yes."

"Why on _earth_... Philippa, really, the silly old box, or key, or whatever it is doesn't matter _that_ much. I'm certainly no saint, but you really shouldn't have done that."

"Well I can't go back now, can I?" said Philippa. "It's already been done."

"My God, I can't even imagine... with _him_ , of all people..." Jonathan tugged uncomfortably at his collar and leaned forward in his seat, his eyes filled with worry. "Tell me truly. That horrible little blighter didn't _force_ you into anything, now did he?"

Philippa wanted to laugh, remembering how she had impulsively kissed Beni out in the desert, and she supposed that Beni had been right all along. Part of her _had_ wanted to sleep with him, though she still couldn't figure out why. "No, of course not," she said. "We made a deal, fair and square."

"That wasn't a fair deal, love, and you shouldn't have done it. It simply isn't right."

"Oh, don't be old-fashioned," said Philippa, starting to grow annoyed. "Nobody waits until marriage anymore."

"That has got nothing to do with it." Jonathan looked more flustered than ever. "Listen here, Philippa. I just want you to know that I like you. I like you very, very much, but I believe you've gone too far, and well... I think I'd like you to leave now."

Philippa had spent so much time and energy calling herself a fool and regretting her decisions, she didn't think she had room for any more regret. She looked sadly at Jonathan, who blinked uneasily and avoided her eyes, then rose from her seat. "All right, then," she said quietly.

Neither of them said another word as she slipped out the door.

Philippa walked back on deck, purposely ignoring the warden, who stood at the railing singing randomly in Arabic; Dr. Chamberlain, who looked uptight as usual; and the three Americans, who tried to get her to play with a deck of cards they had borrowed from one of the passengers. She ignored them all and found an empty part of the deck, free from the oppressive eyes of other people, and watched the Nile ripple beneath the hot Egyptian sun.

She had a feeling that he would find her. He _always_ managed to find her and she didn't complain when Beni came sneaking out of nowhere, a smug little smile on his scrawny face. "So are you happy now that you have your puzzle box?" he said. "Is that what you have always wanted?"

He was mocking her yet again, but Philippa didn't mind. "I don't care about the puzzle box," she said. "I never really wanted it."

"Then give it back."

" _You_ don't care about it either."

"And how would you know that?"

"Because you don't care about anything, silly. We both know that."

"Oh, like _you're_ so perfect," said Beni. "You are no different."

He was horrible, but that was why Philippa liked him. She didn't have to worry about being good around Beni, or wonder whether or not he liked her. None of it mattered. Beni didn't care what she did or what she said, and he certainly didn't care about how she felt, but that was quite all right because Philippa was tired of trying to please people. She was tired of trying to please herself.

She drew closer to Beni and took him by the hand, but he swatted her away and scowled. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked.

"I want to go with you when we get to Cairo," said Philippa.

"No, you don't."

"Oh yes, I do. We'll have a grand old time of it, doing whatever we please without caring what anyone thinks."

Beni looked amused, still refusing to take her seriously. "What about your precious brother?"

"I don't need him," said Philippa. "And he doesn't need me."

"And what about your stupid Englishman?"

"He doesn't need me either."

"Well maybe I don't want you to come with me. Women are nothing but trouble."

"You can go to America with me," said Philippa. "Wouldn't you like to see America? New York is the greatest city in the whole world and you haven't _lived_ until you've seen it. Oh, my friends will think I'm nuts and my mother will hate you, and it'll be wonderful."

Beni stared at her with suspicious eyes, but soon he started to snicker and then wheeze with outright laughter. "Oh, I get it now," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. "This is your clever way of saying you want to sleep with me again. I knew you enjoyed it."

"I mean it," said Philippa. "I _do_ want to go with you when we get off the boat."

"You're lying."

"Am I really?" Philippa caught Beni by the wrist and leaned in closer, so that her face was just inches from his. "Well I think we belong together, Beni, because nobody truly wants us."


	16. Stolen Goods

"So I guess you're gonna be pretty famous 'cause of this book, huh?" said Rick. "What are you gonna do when we get to Cairo?"

"It's not about the fame or the money, O'Connell," said Evelyn. "This is history. We may not be able to open the book, but do you have any idea how much we can learn about the Old Kingdom thanks to our discovery?"

"Sure, but you're forgetting that the thing is made out of solid gold. I'm pretty sure your brother hasn't forgotten."

"Well I'm not going to just sell it to the highest bidder, no matter what Jonathan says. And what about _you_ , O'Connell? Where are you going to go once we're back in the city?"

Philippa couldn't bear to listen anymore. Rick stammered some awkward response to Evelyn, telling her that he still had to think about his options, though Philippa knew perfectly well that he would rather stay in Cairo than sail to New York. The morning had stretched on into early afternoon and Philippa left her seat on the deck, where she had pretended to watch the river, and walked past Rick and Evelyn without looking at either of them.

She felt hollow, knowing she had nobody to blame but herself.

How silly she had been, thinking that her time in Egypt would be nothing but a party, when all she had done was make a nuisance of herself. She wasn't even _supposed_ to accompany Rick to Hamunaptra, but she had foolishly insisted upon it and ruined her relationship with all of her companions as a result. Jonathan could hardly stand to look at her anymore.

She considered going to her cabin and hiding out for the rest of the day when shouts caught her attention. Henderson strode across the desk, something heavy clutched in his arms, followed by Daniels, Burns, and a highly agitated Chamberlain.

"You can't just walk off with that!" Chamberlain protested. "It belongs to the museum!"

"We're takin' our share, Doc," said Henderson.

"And since you like those jars so much, it's only fair that we get the book," Burns added.

Philippa realized that Henderson was holding the black book in his arms, while Daniels carried a pistol and kept Chamberlain from getting too close. "Now this is _absurd_ , gentlemen," Chamberlain declared. "That book isn't meant to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh, and you think _your_ hands are the right ones?" Daniels snapped. "Maybe you shoulda thought twice before keepin' those jars from us."

"You just want all the credit for yourself, don'tcha, Doc?" said Henderson. "Well we didn't come out here for nothin'."

"Yeah," Daniels echoed, glaring at Chamberlain.

The three of them walked off with the book, while Chamberlain stood by and sputtered in disbelief, trying to throw a few shaky threats at their retreating backs. Philippa felt sorry for him, but she didn't know what to say and wandered back to her former seat, where Rick and Evelyn stood by with puzzlement written on their faces.

"What was that all about?" asked Rick.

"Beats me," said Philippa, though she suspected she knew the answer. The Americans must have investigated the chest and discovered the compartment that Philippa saw Chamberlain exploring back in the desert, though she had no idea what the "jars" could possibly be.

"Well we've got two more days on this boat," said Rick. "Let's hope nobody kills anyone before we reach Cairo."

Philippa turned away from Rick and stood close to the deck railing, letting his words sink in. How would she survive two more days of avoiding Jonathan, making awkward conversation with Rick, and feeling like she didn't belong? She didn't know how long she stood there, staring into the blue depths of the Nile, but she soon found herself alone on the deck aside from a couple of turbaned men who sat a good distance away. Lonely and bored, Philippa turned from the railing and walked to the cabins until she stood in front of the door she wanted, then held back a sigh and knocked.

Beni didn't look surprised when he opened the door. "I knew you would be back," he said smugly.

"I didn't come here for _that_ ," said Philippa. "I just want some company right now."

"Then go find your idiot brother."

Philippa ignored him and sank into a chair, then dug in her purse for a cigarette until she remembered that she didn't have any. Beni hovered nearby and watched her with suspicious eyes, as if he feared she would steal everything from the room if he turned his back on her. "Well," said Philippa, giving him a tired smile. "Aren't you going to talk to me?"

"About what?" Beni grumbled.

"I don't know. What did you and Rick talk about when you were in the Legion together?"

Beni smirked at her. "Women."

"Well we'll have to find a different subject, won't we? Have you got a home in Cairo?"

Beni didn't answer the question and watched her instead, making her more uneasy the longer he stared at her. "The Americans have got an ancient book," Beni finally said.

"So you heard about their little spat with the doctor," said Philippa.

"The whole boat heard about it. I want you to steal the book."

Now it was Philippa's turn to stare. "Wait, what?"

"I want you to steal the book," Beni repeated. "Or else you can't come with me when we get to Cairo."

"What if I get caught?"

"That is not my problem."

Philippa knew better than to accept right away, since her last deal with Beni had brought nothing but trouble. "What do you want with the book, anyway?" she asked.

"It is an ancient book from Hamunaptra," Beni scoffed at her. "It will fetch a good price."

"Well if you want it so badly, then why don't _you_ steal it?"

"The Americans like you. You are one of them. And I won't let you come with me for nothing."

Part of Philippa still wanted to go with him, just to spite Rick and the others, and yet part of her suspected that she wouldn't be happy in the long run. "I'll have to think about it," she said. "That's an awfully big risk for me to take."

"I know you will do as I say," said Beni, watching her with wicked amusement. "There is nothing else you're good for."

"I'll think about it," Philippa repeated. Feeling more listless than ever, she looked around the cabin at the somewhat rumpled bed, the closet area, and the mirror, remembering what had happened only the night before. "Have you got anything to drink in here?"

"No," said Beni. "And I wouldn't give it to you anyway."

"How come?"

"Because you are wasting my time."

Philippa saw the look in his eyes and knew what he meant. She supposed she would have to get used to going to bed with him if she threw in her lot with Beni, though she still hadn't decided if she truly wanted to follow him. "You're not interested in anything but sex and money, are you?" she asked teasingly.

"Who cares if I am?" said Beni. "That is what every man is interested in."

"But that's _all_ you're interested in."

"What about you?" Beni shot back. "You like money just as much as anyone. And you had no problem sleeping with me last night."

"That doesn't mean I'll sleep with you again, silly."

"But you probably will. Nobody else on this boat wants you, remember?"

Philippa suddenly felt very lonely, as if she and Beni were the only two people in Egypt, and she longed more than ever for the lively circle of acquaintances that always kept her distracted in New York. She never had to think too hard when there was always someone to see and something to do, but now she was forced to confront herself and the reality was a lonely one. "Do you want me, Beni?" Her voice sounded a little more desperate than she meant it to. "I mean, _really_ want me?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

She got up from her chair and drew closer to Beni, close enough to hear him breathe. He started to ask what she was doing, but she tilted her face up and kissed him, cutting off his words, and he kissed her back just as greedily as he did everything else, like her lips were the last ones he would ever touch. His stubble scratched against her face and he fumbled at her clothes with quick, demanding fingers, but Philippa pushed his hands away and whispered, "I'll get the book. _Then_ you can have me."

Beni didn't protest when she pulled away from him and walked out of the cabin, though she thought she heard him muttering to himself in Hungarian as she walked away, no doubt disappointed that she was making him wait. Philippa had no idea how she was going to steal the book, but she would never get it unless she found the three Americans and gained more information. She doubted Daniels would tell her anything. Henderson might, if she coaxed him into the right mood, and Burns probably would if she acted innocent enough.

She worried over the problem for the rest of the afternoon, thinking up all the ways she could approach the Americans without being suspicious. One of them was always missing from the group, probably guarding the black book, and she knew they wouldn't take kindly to her asking questions and poking into their affairs. She saw no sign of Chamberlain, though she assumed he was either sulking or keeping a watch on those jars that Burns and Daniels mentioned, just to make sure the Americans didn't take _those_ as well. She was relieved that nobody had discovered the gold book that Evelyn had carefully hidden in her cabin, or else there would probably be a war on the boat.

Afternoon turned into early evening and Philippa lingered on deck, watching Burns and Daniels have a couple of drinks together. She thought she had a pretty good chance of using Burns to get the book, though she didn't want to try with Daniels around, just in case he decided to be difficult. And knowing Daniels, he probably _would_ be difficult. She hesitated a few seconds longer, then approached their table with a bright, innocent smile and took a seat.

"Nice trip, isn't it?" she said.

"Better than expected," said Burns.

"Ain't _that_ the truth," said Daniels. "We'll be rich men as soon as we get off this boat."

"Rich and _famous_ men," Burns added. "Who else can say they've discovered the Book of the Dead?"

"Oh, is _that_ what that silly old book is?" Philippa said with wide eyes. "Boy, I'd get the heebie-jeebies handling a book about dead people!"

"Doesn't matter what it's about," said Daniels. "Just as long as it brings in some dough."

"Do you think it's worth a lot?"

"I bet it would be worth more if we could open it," said Burns. "It's got some kind of lock on it and we don't have the key."

Philippa perked up at this news. She didn't know if the key to the gold book, which was still in her handbag, would work on the black book, but it was worth a try once she stole the book from the Americans.

"Ah, who cares?" said Daniels. "The scholars'll find some way to open the damn thing. It's their job, after all."

Philippa thought hard, trying to think of a way to get Burns away from Daniels so she could ask him to show her the book, when Daniels focused his gaze on her and smirked. "But enough about that book," he continued. "Why are you here with us, missy? Tired of that rat Gabor already?"

"Maybe," Philippa said slyly. "But then again, maybe not. He isn't so bad, you know."

"You only say that 'cause you ain't had a real man."

"Daniels, cut it out," Burns tried to protest.

But suddenly Philippa had an idea. It wasn't Burns she needed to steal the book, but _Daniels_ instead. "And what exactly is a real man like?" she asked, giving Daniels a flirtatious little smile.

He looked smugly back at her. "Why don'tcha let me show you?"

"You know, Mr. Daniels, I think I might take you up on that offer."


	17. Letting Go

Philippa didn't know why she felt embarrassed when Daniels knocked on the cabin door and Henderson appeared, his puzzled expression rapidly turning into a grin when he looked at Daniels and then at Philippa, putting two and two together. She didn't know why she found it so hard to meet Henderson's eyes, when she had already gained a less-than-desirable reputation among the three Americans. She had slept with Beni, after all, which should have stripped her of all shame and dignity, but it seemed that a small bit of her dignity had stubbornly remained behind.

"Me and the lady here want some privacy," Daniels told Henderson, unable to keep the smugness from his voice. "Don't bother knockin' on the door for at least an hour."

"Oh, I understand," said Henderson, giving Daniels a playful punch in the shoulder. "And you're a helluva lot braver than I am, travelin' the same road that Gabor has been down. A _helluva_ lot braver."

Daniels' satisfaction disappeared. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

"Well I don't wanna say no more, seein' how there's a lady in my presence and all. I'd best leave the two of you to your hour-long chat."

Henderson strolled away and Philippa was tempted to stroll right after him, in hopes of finding a discreet way to tip herself overboard and into the Nile. But Daniels grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her inside, then slammed the door shut and pushed her against it, pressing his body against her own. "Just me and you, little lady," he murmured, gazing at her with dark eyes. He leaned in to kiss her, but Philippa turned her face aside and laughed, forcing the sound from her reluctant throat.

"Oh, darling, you really don't think I move _that_ fast, do you?" she said. "What kind of floozy do you take me for?"

"Aw, don't play that game with me," said Daniels. "We both know you're easy."

"I'm really not as easy as I look, honey. I have to get to know a fellow better before I let him kiss me."

Philippa didn't think Daniels would ever let go of her, but at last he scowled and stepped away. "Fine. We'll play by your rules."

As soon as Daniels backed off, Philippa noticed that Henderson had left his room key in plain sight on the table. Trying not to stare at the key, she brought her eyes to Daniels' face and smiled in a way that she hoped was seductive. "On second thought, I might break the rules a little, just for you. But you have to close your eyes first."

"Look here, missy, if you're plannin' any funny business—"

"Now why would I do a thing like that? Just close your eyes like a good boy and you'll have me in a jiffy."

Daniels stared at her a moment, defiance written in every line of his face, then relaxed a bit and did as she said. Perhaps he assumed that she planned to get undressed while his eyes were closed. Philippa didn't waste time wondering why exactly he obeyed her, partially because she didn't have time and partially because she really, truly didn't want to know, and quickly took the room key off the table so she could drop it into the handbag she always kept on her arm. The tiny room key clinked against the much bigger, much older key from Hamunaptra, but Daniels didn't seem to notice and continued to stand with his eyes closed, waiting. Philippa was reluctant to touch him—proof that her dignity may have survived a little, but her standards had plummeted straight to rock bottom, considering everything she had done with Beni—but she forced herself to move forward until she was right in front of Daniels, with barely any breathing room between them.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Open your eyes."

He did open them, gazing at her with a greedy expression no different from Beni's, and yet she couldn't bring herself to kiss him. She never meant to in the first place. When Daniels grabbed her and tried to press his lips to hers once more, Philippa sighed loudly and sagged against him, growing limp in his arms.

"Oh, I feel awful," she moaned. "I've suddenly got the most terrible headache."

"You didn't have no headache earlier," said Daniels.

"Well I've got one now and it's killing me. I need to rest."

Daniels smirked at her and didn't let go, keeping possessive hands on her waist. "I've got a perfectly good bed right over there. Why don'tcha lie down?"

"Oh no, I'd rather go back to my own cabin. I think Evelyn might have something that can help me."

Daniels released her and gave her a small push, as if she suddenly disgusted him. "Get back to your room, then," he said, all traces of desire gone. "We'll be in Cairo soon anyway. I can find a dozen girls better than you."

Feeling that once again, she had made a terrible fool of herself, Philippa hurried out the door and nearly ran right into Jonathan, who was headed to his own cabin. He let out a cry of surprise and immediately steadied her, placing his hands on her shoulders, then realized what he was doing and jerked his hands away as if she had burned him.

"Pardon me, dear," he said awkwardly. "Where were you heading off to in such a rush?"

Jonathan's voice soothed her, just as it always did, and Philippa's heart ached at the sight of him. She missed Jonathan dreadfully. "Nowhere important," she said. "Where were _you_ headed?"

"Oh, just my cabin. I thought I'd sleep off the rest of the night."

"You don't seem like you've been drinking."

"Well, not much, at least," Jonathan admitted. "It's the boredom that I intend to sleep off."

He started to mumble something about taking his leave of her and going to his cabin, since he didn't want to be a bother, and Philippa couldn't believe that they had acted like the best of friends just a few days before. "Wait." She caught Jonathan by the arm and stopped him from leaving. "I, um, want to start over. I miss you."

Jonathan's face softened. "I miss you too, love. Let's just, ah, forget everything and pretend that nothing happened, shall we? I find that's usually the best solution."

"So do I," said Philippa.

"Have I ever told you about the night I spent in jail for an offense I didn't commit? Now _that_ was an incident well worth forgetting."

"Sounds like quite a story. What happened?"

"Well the Cairo police, who are bloody awful at their job, got me mixed up with somebody else, if you can believe it. The silly buggers thought I looked remarkably like some other fellow, who was the _real_ culprit, and they didn't believe me when I tried to tell them I had obviously been framed..."

They walked onto the deck, Philippa clutching Jonathan's arm while Jonathan chattered away, telling her dramatic stories that were probably more fiction than fact, and she felt truly comfortable for the first time since boarding the boat. How could she possibly go with Beni when she liked Jonathan more than anyone? When she had _always_ liked Jonathan more than anyone? She had done enough damage, made enough mistakes, and spent enough time feeling sorry for herself, and she would only continue down that horrible road if she stole the black book and gave it to Beni. Beni would probably take the book and run off without her anyway, which would do her no good at all, and by the time Jonathan walked her back to the cabins her mind was made up.

"I suppose you and O'Connell will stick around long enough to soak up some of the glory, eh?" said Jonathan. They stood outside of her cabin and Philippa had one hand on the door, reluctant to go inside.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Our secret little discovery, of course. We're all going to be preposterously rich."

Philippa had forgotten that Jonathan and Evelyn weren't the only ones who would benefit from the gold book's discovery. She was part of the team as well and was therefore entitled to some of the profits, though Rick seemed to have no interest in getting rich or becoming famous. She supposed he would be hopelessly out of place in New York, or at least the parts of New York that made up Philippa's world, and she supposed it would be cruel to drag him off to a place that was bound to make him uncomfortable.

But the selfish part of her wanted to do it anyway.

"I don't think Rick wants to be rich," said Philippa, thinking aloud. "Though _I_ certainly do. And I've always wanted to be famous, though I never had much talent for singing or writing or whatever else people do to get famous in America."

"Which is why Egypt is the place to make your fortune, of course," said Jonathan. "I've been trying for years, breaking my back out in that bloody desert for days on end, and it seems my hard work has paid off at last."

Philippa laughed and bid him goodnight, glad that they could enjoy each other's company again, and retreated into her cabin. Evelyn was probably up on deck, since she wasn't in the room, and Philippa sank onto the bed and dug through her handbag until her hand closed around a small silver key. She shouldn't have taken it, though she had enjoyed pulling the wool over Daniels' eyes and disappointing him in the process, and remembered Jonathan's words about soaking up the glory once they reached Cairo. The gold book was further proof that Philippa didn't need to steal the black book, which was obviously less valuable, and tie herself to a man like Beni.

She pulled the key out of her handbag and slipped out of the cabin, out into the empty hall. She stood there for a moment with the key in her hand and thought of Beni, who seemed so pitiful in spite of his selfishness and greed. Beni was a man who had nothing, a man who would probably have nothing for the rest of his life, and she could change his fate forever if she gave him the black book. She could become part of his empty, greedy little life and try to turn nothing into something.

But she probably wouldn't be happy, and neither would Beni.

Philippa dropped the key on the floor where the Americans would find it, then retreated back to her cabin and went to bed, satisfied that she had done the right thing for once. She didn't need another bad decision on her conscience.


	18. Lost Again

"You did not bring me the book."

Despite her efforts to avoid him, Philippa had ended up alone with Beni on an empty part of the deck, and she figured it couldn't hurt to see him one last time before they parted ways for good. They were only minutes away from Cairo, according to Evelyn.

"Sorry, Beni," Philippa said sweetly. "You're a swell fellow and all, but I'm not coming with you."

"Oh, I knew you would not come with me," said Beni, looking at her pathetically. "Women do not want to be with me. They only want a good time."

"What do you mean, women don't want to be with you? What woman could possibly turn down a greedy, self-centered little charmer like you? You're the cat's meow as far as men go."

"You are always talking about cats. I don't understand it."

"Oh, don't pay it any mind. I'm just a silly American, you know."

Beni leaned against the boat railing and watched her with those eyes that either looked mocking, pathetic, or calculating, and Philippa realized that he never expressed emotions the way most people did. He never laughed from joy, but snickered at people's misfortunes instead, and only acted sad because he wanted people to feel sorry for him. Even now, after all they had been through, he eyed her up like she was nothing more than a temporary amusement.

"You will probably not see me again," he said.

"You're right," said Philippa. "What a pity."

"If it is such a pity, then you will kiss me before you get off the boat."

"Aw, you want a farewell kiss, Beni? So you _can_ be romantic."

Beni frowned at her. "Just shut up and do it."

"That's no way to get a kiss from a lady. You'll have to ask nicely."

" _Please_ shut up and do it."

"Good enough, I guess."

Philippa didn't see any harm in kissing him goodbye and leaned in closer, ready to put her arms around his thin shoulders, but he grabbed her and gave her the most impatient kiss she had ever received. She could barely breathe, his lips were moving against hers with such desperate force, and she knew his hands were roaming but couldn't bring herself to stop him. Beni had always been her biggest weakness. He finally released her and gave her a slight push, smirking in a way that made her uncomfortable, then started to walk away from her.

"Goodbye, my dear Philippa!" he called mockingly over his shoulder.

"Beni, wait—"

But Beni disappeared, obviously too wrapped up in himself to care about Philippa, and she supposed the end of the boat trip would give her some freedom, since she wouldn't have to worry about Beni anymore. The warden strolled onto her part of the deck, humming loudly as he admired the river, and Philippa busied herself with digging through her handbag so he wouldn't stop and talk to her. She sifted through her belongings, listening to them knock against each other as she handled each object, then froze when she realized that something was missing.

The key had disappeared.

"Hey, Philippa!"

How had the key disappeared? She never took it out of her bag and nobody knew she had it, aside from Jonathan and Beni. Which meant that—

"Philippa!" Rick repeated, tramping onto the deck with his weapons carrier slung over his shoulder. "We're here. Time to get off."

She hadn't even realized they were pulling into the port. Rick halted a couple of paces away, towering over her with a blank expression on his face, and she still found it hard to believe that this man was her brother. In spite of all they had seen together, he still didn't seem like family. Philippa felt ridiculous as she smiled at him, trying to hide her anxiety over the missing key, and asked, "Have you still got that picture I gave you of Mother? And the letter she wrote you?"

Rick blinked at her, taken aback. "Oh. Yeah, I've still got 'em. They got a little damaged when we jumped in the river, but they're mostly fine."

"Well that's good."

"Yeah..."

"Um, so I think I'd like to stay in Cairo for a few days," said Philippa. "In a hotel, of course," she added quickly. "No offense, dear, but your apartment is no place for a lady."

"Fair enough. Just stay out of trouble, all right?"

Rick was unaware of just _how_ much trouble she had gotten into over the last few days. He still didn't know that she slept with Beni and would probably never hear it from Jonathan, who pretended the incident had never happened, or Daniels, who was now convinced that she had never been with Beni at all, thanks to her reluctance the night before. He had no idea that she had been carrying the ancient key in her handbag, until it disappeared, and didn't know about her short-lived plans to follow Beni when they reached Cairo. Rick didn't know anything about her, now that Philippa thought of it, and she was too ashamed of herself to tell him all of her misdeeds on the trip. Bad enough that he had a silly little flapper for a sister, but surely he would despise her if he knew how foolish she truly was.

"Well," said Rick, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other as he stared back at her. "Jonathan and Evelyn are waiting for us. And I'm sure the warden is dying for his twenty-five percent."

"You're right," said Philippa. She wished she could say something more interesting.

"And thanks for the, uh, the picture. And the letter," said Rick, looking embarrassed as he gazed down at the deck. "It means a lot. Really. Now let's get off this boat."

Philippa's mind was whirling as she followed Rick across the deck, keeping his tall form in front of her as they headed for the exit. She was still worried about the key on top of all her other problems, which included whether or not Rick would accompany her to America, and she kept her eyes alert in case Beni showed up. She was sure Beni had taken the key, which would explain why he insisted on kissing her, and wanted to kick herself for relaxing her guard around a man who clearly couldn't be trusted.

But why steal the key _now_ , when he could have taken it ages ago? And why give it to her in the first place if he meant to steal it back?

She knew something was wrong the moment she saw Daniels, Burns, and Henderson grouped together, all pointing fingers and shouting at each other. Jonathan and Evelyn stood a few feet away, both them looking bewildered at the argument that raged on deck.

"Whaddya mean, you don't have it?"

"I thought _you_ had it!"

"And _I_ thought _you_ had the damn thing!"

"Well it didn't just get up and walk outta the room on its own!"

"Got a problem here?" asked Rick, approaching the three Americans.

"Yeah, we got a problem," said Henderson. "That black book of ours disappeared! You wouldn't know anything about this, now would you, O'Connell?"

Rick denied any knowledge of the book, which appeared to satisfy Henderson and Burns, but Daniels wouldn't stop staring at Philippa. "What about the lady here?" he asked. "You sure you didn't see no book, missy?"

"Of course not," said Philippa. "I wouldn't steal your dusty old book."

"Oh, I wouldn't put it past ya," Daniels said with a sneer.

"Why don't you fellows look for Beni?" said Philippa. "He seems to have a habit of taking things that don't belong to him."

"You don't think we've tried that already?" said Burns. "He's nowhere to be found."

"Well I'm telling you, Mr. Burns, I'm a hundred percent sure that Beni stole your book, so you ought to quit arguing and look for him."

"You sound awful sure of yourself, missy," said Henderson. "You sure you ain't in league with that weasel?"

"Look, I know Beni," Rick put in. "And if Philippa thinks he stole your book, then he probably did. I'd bet you anything he's off the boat by now, looking for someone to sell it to." He placed a hand on Philippa's shoulder and steered her away. "Come on."

Philippa felt too miserable to protest. The Americans tramped off together, continuing to argue in loud voices, and Philippa felt sick because she knew the entire mess was _her_ fault, thanks to her carelessness with the room key. She left Daniels' key on the floor where anyone could find it, thinking the Americans would pick it up, but Beni must have found it and lured the Americans away from the cabin so he could break in and steal the book himself. Philippa had obviously failed in her mission to Beni, since she had promised to give him the book and never showed up with the goods, and she had given him the perfect tool so he could take matters into his own hands.

She deserved to be eaten by crocodiles.

Jonathan and Evelyn were more than happy to get off the boat, especially when they had the gold book to hide from prying eyes, and they all made their way off the deck and down the gangway, while the warden trailed behind and reminded them of his share. Philippa saw no sign of Beni, which didn't surprise her when she knew how stealthy he was, and imagined that he was heading straight for prospective buyers, overjoyed that he had an ancient book and an equally ancient key that fit into the lock.

"Ah, it's good to be back," said Jonathan, looking around the port with eager eyes. "Civilization at last. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm through with trekking into that bloody desert."

Yes, civilization at last, but Philippa wasn't in the mood for enjoying the crowds of people, or the piles of luggage, or the cars that rumbled noisily past. Would Beni enjoy being a rich man? Would he enjoy taking the glory for a discovery that wasn't his? She supposed he would keep on using people whether he was wealthy or not, just like he had used her repeatedly without a care in the world, and Philippa was ashamed because she had _allowed_ him to use her. She thought she was just having fun, and that it couldn't hurt to let somebody as pitiful as Beni have the upper hand, and deep down she actually liked him in spite of all his faults, but she couldn't escape the fact that Beni had used her and cared only for himself. He had always cared only for himself, no matter how many times she gave in to him, and her pity couldn't save him from his own greed.

She doubted he would remember her name if she ever saw him again. People like Beni didn't like to remember people like Philippa, especially if a pile of money came their way.

"Hey." Rick came up beside her and nudged her in the shoulder. "You all right?"

"Of course I am, dear brother," said Philippa. "It's just the heat, that's all. I'll feel as good as new the moment I find a hotel room."

"Nonsense, Philippa," said Jonathan. "Why don't you both stay with Evy and I? It'll be like having a party!"

"A very quiet party, if I have any say in the matter," said Evelyn.

"I'd love to stay with you," said Philippa, tempted at the thought of hot baths, three full meals, and companionship with people she could trust. "But there's a little something I want to take care of first."

"And what would that be?" asked Rick.

Philippa forced away the shame and met his eyes boldly. "I want to find Beni. Right now."


	19. Questions and Answers

Finding Beni was more complicated than Philippa expected. According to Rick, Beni could be anywhere in Cairo and was probably making an effort not to be found, which meant they would only exhaust themselves if they attempted a search party. "We'll never find a sneaky little blighter like him," Jonathan declared. "I'll bet he's hiding right under our noses, laughing at us as we speak."

"Why are you so bent on finding him, anyway?" Rick asked Philippa. "He didn't rob _us_."

Philippa squirmed under Rick's gaze, wishing he wasn't so forthright and honest and _good_. She couldn't deceive a man like Rick. She especially couldn't deceive her own brother. "Beni's got the key that will open the books. He stole it ages ago, when we all thought it was lost."

"The key!" Evelyn exclaimed. "That settles it, then. We _have_ to find this Beni fellow."

"Not so fast," said Rick.

"But the key! It's the only way to open the Book of Amun-Ra without damaging its—"

Rick clapped a hand over Evelyn's mouth, promptly silencing her. "You might wanna keep quiet about that. We're still in the middle of the port."

Philippa supposed she looked awful, standing among civilized people in the same clothes she had worn for days on end, getting covered in sand, dust, and river water. A week ago she would have cared, but now she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed somewhere and sleep her life away. Getting the book and key from Beni was hopeless.

"We'll be lucky if we ever see that silly old key again," she said. "Beni's probably sold it by now, anyway."

"But we can't possibly know for sure," Evelyn said once Rick removed his hand. "And would you mind being a little less rude, O'Connell? A simple 'be quiet' would have sufficed."

"I had to act fast," said Rick. "Give me a break." He glanced around the port, frowning at the empty space between Jonathan and Philippa. "Where's our friend the warden?"

Jonathan, who had insisted on carrying the gold book and keeping it carefully covered up with a cloth, shuffled his feet and gazed at some fascinating patch of cloudless sky. "Ah, well, he took a bit of a tumble into the Nile when the boat was landing. A man of his size really ought to be more careful—"

"Never mind," said Rick. "Forget I asked."

"That's one less headache," said Philippa. "What do we do now?"

"Get out of this sweltering heat, for one thing," said Jonathan. "I'm roasting alive here."

Rick ignored Jonathan. "What do _you_ wanna do, Philippa?"

Philippa stared back at him in astonishment. She wasn't used to having a voice in the group. She was just the tag-along, the frivolous little fool who kept making mistakes, and her opinions didn't matter when Evelyn had the final say. It was always Evelyn this and Evelyn that, right from the beginning, and Philippa wouldn't be surprised if Evelyn determined whether or not Rick stayed in Cairo.

"Why, I want a good smoke, of course," she said. "A nice bed with a soft mattress would be nice too."

"That can easily be arranged, my dear," said Jonathan. "We _did_ invite you to stay with us, didn't we, Evy?"

"Well... yes," Evelyn said hesitantly. "But as soon as we rest, it's straight to the museum. Our discovery really can't wait a moment longer."

"Relax," said Rick. "Those old scholars at the museum have got all day."

"I've been waiting for this moment since I was a child, O'Connell. Forgive me if I'm rather impatient."

"You know, I've always wanted to be a showgirl when I was growing up," Philippa told Jonathan as they left the noisy port and found a cab. "The kind who wears dangerously short skirts and dances in clubs and so on. I even tried out a few years ago, but I was told I didn't have the right legs."

"Now that's preposterous," said Jonathan.

"It is, isn't it? Do you think I'd make a good showgirl, Jonathan?"

"Of course you would, love. Even _I_ would pay to see you, and I never pay for anything unless my life is at stake."

How strange it felt to remember those days in New York, when Philippa was so carefree and ignorant of the wider world. Before coming to Egypt she had never left Manhattan and she never imagined she would meet such strange and interesting people, including a brother she had never seen. She never imagined she would grow so weary of sand and sun, or so nostalgic for the things she took for granted. She even missed her mother with an intensity that surprised her.

Setting foot in the Carnahans' home was heavenly. What did it matter if Beni had the key and the black book when Philippa had luxury in the form of fine oriental rugs, stately English furniture, and all the cigarettes she could ask for? She was delighted to find that Jonathan and Evelyn had a big, porcelain bathtub, the fancy kind with feet that looked like lion's paws, and she immediately immersed herself in a hot bath, smoking a cigarette while she soaked in the water. She would have never found such exquisite bliss if she had gone with a rat like Beni. The best she could have hoped for was a tiny copper tub full of lukewarm water, without any soap.

Once she felt human again, she dried off and put on some clothes she had borrowed from Evelyn—a little too sensible and dull for Philippa's tastes, but at least they were clean. It didn't take long for the heat of Egypt to start drying her short hair and she stepped out of the bathroom with a smile on her lips, ready for anything. Jonathan had mentioned something about dice games and cocktails at the nearby pub and Philippa would just die if she didn't join him.

"Hey."

Rick stood in front of her, strong and solid as ever, but with a touch of uneasiness.

"Hey to you, too," said Philippa.

"We need to talk."

"Aren't we talking right now?"

"I mean privately. Mind going someplace alone for a minute?"

He sounded serious. Philippa's high spirits started to crumble as she followed Rick into a small parlor and sat down in a high-backed chair, one leg crossed over the other. A little golden clock sat on the mantle above the fireplace and her eyes focused on the pendulum, watching it swing back and forth in a steady, unceasing rhythm. It had been ages since she last saw such comfort and splendor.

Rick sat across from her, hunched forward in his seat like he wasn't sure how to behave in such a fine chair. "There's something fishy going on," he said.

Philippa raised an eyebrow. "Is there?"

"Yeah. How do you know Beni has the key? And why are you so sure he stole the black book?"

"I can't tell you that, Rick."

"Why not?"

"You'll hate me."

"I'm your brother. Try me."

 _Brother_. Such a simple word. Such an ordinary part of an ordinary family. Rick was all she had in this strange new country and if she couldn't trust her family, then who could she possibly confide in?

"All right," said Philippa, keeping her eyes on the colorful rug at her feet. "But it's not a pretty story."

"I'm not expecting one. I just want answers."

Philippa started from the beginning and told him everything about Beni, the key, and the Book of the Dead. The whole situation was ridiculous enough, but it sounded even more foolish when Philippa put it into words and spoke them aloud to Rick, and she couldn't look at him the entire time she talked. "If I'd known Beni was going to trick me and steal the key again, I would have never come near him today," she finished. "I swear it."

"It's a little late for regrets now, isn't it?" said Rick. He didn't appear disgusted by her, but he didn't look happy either. "What's done is done."

"What are you going to do?"

"I should wring Beni's neck. That's what I should do. Didn't I tell you to be careful around him?"

"I like him," Philippa confessed. "I-I know he's despicable in every way, but I feel bad for him. And I like him."

"It's not hard to get taken in by Beni. He's so..."

"Pitiful."

"Yeah, that's the word. Pitiful." Rick stared into Philippa's face, as if trying to figure out what made her do the things she did, then broke eye contact and sighed. "You could have told me about the key. I would have made Beni give it up and you wouldn't have had to... to..."

"Make a deal with him," Philippa said quietly. "But I wanted to handle it on my own."

"Fine, but you kept the key a secret. _Twice_. Why didn't you hand it over to Evelyn?"

Philippa had no excuse for that one. "I don't know. I went to all that trouble to get it, so I thought it wouldn't hurt to keep it for a while. And then Beni took it."

"He can have it for all I care," said Rick. "That thing is nothing but trouble."

"Then why did you keep it in the first place? You found it at Hamunaptra, didn't you?"

Rick looked thoughtful, gazing at the wallpaper behind Philippa. "I kept it 'cause it reminded me I was still alive."

"Are you sorry I'm your sister, Rick? Do you hate me for what I've done?"

"I think you should have used your head a little more, but no, I don't hate you. You just made some bad choices."

"I still want you to come to America with me. I want us to be a family."

"It's been a while since I've seen the States," Rick said slowly, thinking over her words. "It might be nice to see them again."

"You'd really go, then? Even though Evelyn is here in Egypt?"

"Doesn't matter. Evelyn has got all this." Rick waved one of his hands, indicating the richly furnished room with its fine furniture, carpets, and golden clock. "Anyway, what would a smart girl like Evelyn want with a guy like me?"

"You're a good deal smarter than I am," said Philippa.

She liked sitting alone with Rick and having an actual conversation with him, even if it involved confessing her sins. Now that he had seen the worst of her, she wanted him to see the best, and it would never happen if she didn't make an effort.

"I'm glad you might come with me," she said. "Mother really wants to see you."

"I know," said Rick.

"I think she's sorry for dumping you off at an orphanage all those years ago. You could at least see her and let her apologize."

"I know," Rick repeated.

"Maybe she can tell you who your father is. Do you ever wonder about him?"

Rick shrugged. "I wonder about a lot of things."

"Well maybe he's..." Philippa trailed off, for Evelyn had entered the parlor with a grim expression on her face. "Anything the matter?"

Evelyn addressed Rick, her eyes full of worry. "We have a visitor."


	20. Fairy Tales

"Now are those _real_ tattoos or do you paint your face every morning? Must be devilishly hard to—" Jonathan realized that Rick, Evelyn, and Philippa had entered the front room and sagged with relief. "Oh, Evy, thank God you're back. There's no getting through to this man."

Their visitor turned out to be a tall, dark man who loomed a few feet from Jonathan, dressed entirely in black. The familiar sight of him drove fear into Philippa's heart. "Say, he's one of the goons who attacked us!" she cried.

The stranger looked puzzled. "Goons?"

"Oh, don't mind Philippa," Jonathan said quickly. "She's American. You know how Americans are."

Rick strode towards the stranger, one hand on the gun at his hip. "What's going on here? And who _are_ you exactly?"

"My name is Ardeth," said the man, gazing steadily back at Rick with dark, serious eyes. He didn't look like he planned to pull out a weapon and attack them anytime soon, but Philippa stayed close to the nearest exit, ready to run. "Where is the Book of the Dead?"

"You're not gonna find it," said Rick.

"The book must be found. Where have you hidden it?"

"Even if we did have it, we wouldn't hand it over without a word of explanation first," said Evelyn. "Why are you looking for the book?"

"You did not take my advice in time," said Ardeth. "You refused to leave Hamunaptra and have condemned us all to danger now that the Book of the Dead is unearthed. I ask you again, where is it?"

"What could possibly be dangerous about a book?" said Evelyn, ignoring his question. "If this is some clever scheme to frighten us into handing over ancient artifacts, then we're not going to fall for it."

"Anyway, we don't know where the book is," Rick added. "A guy named Beni ran off with it."

"You know, the little European bugger with the red hat," said Jonathan. "Scrawny fellow, very shifty looking."

Ardeth's passive face betrayed a flicker of worry and he murmured something to himself in Arabic, no longer the dangerous man who had dared to attack their camp. "Then it is worse than I feared," he told them. "We intended to follow this man you describe, but he is too cunning and quick. He disappeared."

"Follow?" said Philippa. "Have you been spying on everyone? Is that how you found us?" The thought of all those black-robed men watching her every move gave her the shivers. What had they done to deserve such unwanted attention?

"You call it spying, but my people call it performing our duty," said Ardeth. "I have men tracking the whereabouts of the other members of your group."

"But why?" said Evelyn. "Why all this secrecy and sneaking about? I know there are stories about Hamunaptra, but you can't possibly take them seriously."

"This is more than just an ancient book and a lost city. If the Book of the Dead falls into the wrong hands, we will all be at the mercy of the Hom-Dai, the most terrible of all the ancient curses."

A hushed silence settled upon the room, though Philippa quickly broke it with a wild peal of laughter. The idea of a man like Ardeth, who looked so serious and dressed in such somber black attire, actually believing in curses was too much for her to handle. "Curses?" she said once her giggles had subsided. "Now that's the funniest thing I've heard in days! You're really trying to scam us, aren't you?"

Ardeth's expression was stony. "This is no laughing matter."

"Oh, you're full of baloney, mister. We're not just a bunch of dumb tourists, you know."

"Philippa," Rick said warningly. "I don't think you want to annoy this guy."

He was right, of course. Philippa immediately shut her mouth.

"The curse is real," said Ardeth. "You will find out for yourself the hard way if the Creature is awoken."

"What's the Creature?" asked Rick. "And what kind of curse are we dealing with here, anyway?"

"You don't honestly believe all this nonsense about a curse, do you?" said Evelyn. "There's no such thing as curses."

"You weren't there the day I found that key. I know there's something evil out there."

"Really, O'Connell, this isn't the time to allow silly superstitions to—"

"Enough," said Ardeth, cutting Evelyn off. "We do not have much time. If you are not willing to believe in the curse, then you must at least give me the Book of Amun-Ra."

His words caused instant panic. Rick didn't say a word, but Jonathan and Evelyn reacted as if Ardeth had dropped a bomb in the middle of their home. "Now wait just a bloody minute here!" cried Jonathan. "Philippa's right. This _is_ a scam!"

"How-how on _earth_ did you know we've got the Book of Amun-Ra?" Evelyn demanded. " _Nobody_ knows we've got it."

"Well it looks like somebody does," said Rick.

"Please, I do not mean to upset you," said Ardeth. He sounded remorseful, almost sad, and showed the first sign of a facial expression that Philippa could detect. "I had hoped this would be a short visit, but it appears we have a lot we need to discuss."

"You can bloody well say that again," Jonathan muttered.

Evelyn quickly composed herself, though she kept sending suspicious little glares in Ardeth's direction, and took charge of the situation by politely ordering everyone to have a seat. Philippa stuck close to Rick and joined him on a stiff sofa that looked a hundred years old, while Ardeth hovered uncomfortably until he finally settled on the plainest, most boring piece of furniture he could find. Philippa suppressed another laugh. Out of all the strange people she had met in Egypt, Ardeth was definitely the strangest, and she wished she had a camera so she could take a photograph of him. His appearance would cause quite a stir in New York.

"So, ah, shall I make a pot of tea, then?" said Jonathan, fidgeting uneasily in his seat.

Evelyn gave him a reproachful look.

"Or I suppose I'll just stay here and... listen."

Ardeth briefly told them about the curse of the Hom-Dai, a curse that had been inflicted three thousand years ago upon a high priest named Imhotep, who was punished for trying to resurrect the woman he loved. Philippa didn't believe a word of it, though she felt a prickle up her spine when Ardeth described the plagues that would occur if Imhotep was brought back to life, and she felt like she could breathe easier when he had finished speaking at last.

"You know, you should be writing for the movies," she told Ardeth. "You've got some swell ideas!"

"What are movies?" asked Ardeth, frowning.

"You've never seen a movie? Gee, I knew Egypt was a little backwards, but you're really missing out. It's like seeing a novel right in front of your eyes, only better because—"

"Save it for later," said Rick, nudging her with his shoulder. "Now I'm not saying I believe this story, 'cause it sounds pretty far-fetched to me, but who would wanna bring this guy back to life? Don't you think you're over-reacting here?"

"It is a risk I am not willing to take," said Ardeth.

"But this story about curses and plagues and so on is nothing but hogwash," said Evelyn. "As fascinating as it is, it's nothing but an old myth handed down through generations to give people a good scare. I don't think we have to worry about this Imhotep fellow rising from the dead anytime soon."

"It is better to be prepared than to be caught without a weapon in your hand," said Ardeth. "Which is why I ask you to give me the Book of Amun-Ra. It is the only thing that can stop the Creature if he is reborn."

"But how do you know we've got it?" Evelyn asked again. "We've been so careful to conceal it."

"My men are everywhere. One of them overheard you when you were talking at the port."

"I told you to keep quiet about that," said Rick.

Jonathan, who had been listening to the conversation with increasing agitation, let out a nervous chuckle. "You can't be serious about that book, my good man," he told Ardeth. "We found it fair and square."

"I am entirely serious," said Ardeth. "I will take it by force if I must."

"But you _can't_ have the book. That's my fortune—I mean, _our_ fortune—you're trying to take! We can have you reported for robbery, you know."

"There is one other choice. You can return to Hamunaptra yourselves with the Book of Amun-Ra, to ensure that the Creature is not fully regenerated. Otherwise I will be forced to steal it from you."

Either way, they were faced with an unpleasant choice. Ever since Jonathan and Rick told her about Hamunaptra, Philippa had dreamed of returning home with great wealth and fantastic riches, the envy of all her peers, and she hated the thought of losing the gold book. It had brought so much hope and joy to Evelyn and Jonathan. But if keeping the gold book meant returning to Hamunaptra, with its vicious beetles, ancient booby traps, and dark, spooky chambers, then she wasn't sure if all those riches would be worth it. Hamunaptra wasn't cursed, of course, but it sure gave her the creeps.

Rick looked at Philippa. "So how 'bout it? You want to go back to Hamunaptra?"

"No," Philippa said firmly.

"I don't blame ya. Neither of us are going."

He was actually on her side. Philippa felt a surge of affection for Rick, an affection that told her they could be a family after all, if only they stuck together.

"What about you?" said Ardeth, turning to Evelyn. "Are you willing to protect the world from an evil you don't believe in?"

"Well, when you put it that way, the answer is no," said Evelyn. "But I don't think it's fair of you to take our discovery away from us."

"I'm still not convinced this isn't a scam of some sort," said Jonathan. "I bet you go around to all the treasure seekers and feed them rubbish about mummies and ancient curses, and then you make off with all the valuables, don't you? A fine idea, really, but it isn't going to work on _us_ , I can tell you that."

Philippa feared that Ardeth really _would_ take the book by force, but the conversation was halted when a couple of men, dressed in the same black robes as Ardeth, came barging into the room. One of them spoke to Ardeth in rapid Arabic, gesturing frantically with his hands.

"Your friend with the red hat is returning to Hamunaptra," Ardeth announced. "He is not alone."

"Did your people catch him?" asked Rick.

Ardeth glanced at the black-robed men, then turned his gaze back to Rick, his face more serious than ever. "His companion has raised an army of the dead."


	21. From Bad to Worse

Philippa couldn't believe it. She _wouldn't_ believe it. Ardeth had told nothing but lies and ridiculous tales since the moment he started speaking, and a man who wore such outlandish robes and decorated his face with such strange tattoos could only be interested in scamming them for a profit. He was no different from the circus people and street performers who used trickery and fancy costumes to empty the pockets of hard-working Americans. Or at least that was what her papa had always claimed, before he ran off with the opera singer, and Philippa was willing to believe him after the nonsense Ardeth had tried to feed them.

"Excuse me, but did you just say an army of the _dead_?" said Philippa. "How dumb do you think we are, mister?"

Ardeth remained as stony-faced as ever. "You do not understand what is at stake here. Where are you keeping the Book of Amun-Ra?"

"What's the use?" said Philippa. "We haven't got the key."

"What do you mean, you haven't got the key?" Ardeth's voice, so steady and serious a moment ago, began to grow impatient. "Where is it?"

"Our pal in the red hat has got it," said Rick. "You want the key, go after _him_."

"I already told you, there is an army of the dead swarming the port, preventing our success. In order to defeat it, we must open the Book of Amun-Ra."

"Why don't you end this little charade of yours already?" said Jonathan. "Bad enough that you barge in here and start spouting off poppycock about curses and so on, but really now, this is getting preposterous!"

Ardeth said something in Arabic and his two companions drew their weapons, identical scowls on their dark faces. Rick immediately drew his gun in response. "I have tried my best to reason with you," said Ardeth, switching back to English. "But there is no longer time for reason. We _must_ act now."

"Why don't we _all_ go down to the port?" Philippa said quickly. "That way we avoid any fighting or stealing, and everyone's happy. Now that we know where Beni is, I want to go after him."

"How could you possibly aid us?" said Ardeth.

"I can get the key from Beni, the man in the red hat. He and I have got kind of an... understanding with each other."

An awkward silence ensued. Evelyn was the first to break it. "Well, I'd rather get out and do something than stay cooped up in here taking threats from a stranger. Jonathan, why don't you go start the car?"

"It is dangerous out there," Ardeth warned.

"I think we can handle a few imaginary dead guys," said Rick.

"Do we have an agreement, then?" said Evelyn. Her eyes flicked nervously to Ardeth's henchmen, who still had their weapons drawn, but her voice remained steady. "We'll all go down to the port to fetch the key and I'll look after the Book of Amun-Ra. Just as a precaution, you understand."

"Then I will travel with you," said Ardeth. "Also as a precaution."

"Wonderful," said Philippa. "Let's hit the road already."

Perhaps Ardeth's urgency had infected her, or maybe her own guilt was making her restless, but Philippa was impatient to get to the port and find Beni. He thought he was so clever, using her repeatedly for his own selfish ends, but she would show him that he couldn't always win. That she wasn't as dumb and naive as he thought. Ardeth's henchmen disappeared into the shadows while the rest of them piled into Jonathan's car and Philippa found herself squashed between Rick and Ardeth in the backseat. It occurred to her that she was hungry, but it was too late to fix that, and she winced when Rick's elbow jabbed into her ribs as Jonathan stepped on the gas and drove into Cairo's dusty streets.

She wondered what she would say to Beni when she saw him. _If_ she saw him again. Perhaps he was headed down the Nile already, headed back to that spooky lost city, though she couldn't imagine why Beni of all people would return to Hamunaptra. Maybe it was another one of Ardeth's lies. She glanced to her left, where Ardeth was sitting stiffly and cringing each time Jonathan hit a bump or turned a corner too fast.

"Haven't you ridden in a car before?" Philippa asked him.

"This is my first ride," said Ardeth, keeping his nervous eyes fixed upon the road. "I hope it will be my last."

Philippa started to laugh, but quickly fell silent when she remembered that Ardeth was a liar and a con artist who had attacked them not once, but twice. He and his people probably hated foreigners, which explained the attacks on the boat and their camp, and when they failed to drive the foreigners away they resorted to trickery in order to—

"Great bloody Scott," Jonathan murmured, slowing the car to a stop. "What in the..."

"Holy shit," said Rick.

Philippa sat up straighter and gasped when she saw the chaos that overran the port. It looked like a riot had broken out. People ran shrieking across the roads, waving their arms in distress, and the distinctive crack of gunfire filled the air. Ardeth muttered something in Arabic, his expression dark as he watched a man sprint just a few feet away from Jonathan's car. A second figure tackled the running man and pinned him to the ground, then took a large bite out of his neck and began chewing vigorously.

"Oh, my God!" Evelyn cried. "Do something!"

Philippa watched in horror as Rick took out his gun and shot the person, or creature, or whatever it was that was having a gruesome meal. It let out a sickening moan as the bullet found its mark, right in the head, and collapsed on top of the bleeding man.

"What just happened?" Philippa said weakly. "What's going on?"

"The living dead," Ardeth replied. "They are flesh eaters, like the scarab beetles of Hamunaptra."

The monster, now completely motionless, resembled a corpse that had been decomposing underground for years, perhaps decades or even centuries. Its thin, grey flesh was literally hanging off its bones and only a few stringy locks of hair remained on its rotted scalp. Philippa choked down the bile that had risen to her throat and looked away, unable to bear such a grisly sight.

"Drive!" Ardeth urged Jonathan. "We must stop your friend before something worse than the living dead wakes up!"

"There's something _worse_ than this?" Rick said skeptically.

"Drive!" Ardeth repeated. "Hurry!"

Jonathan stepped on the gas and headed for the river, swerving to avoid the frantic people who ran for their lives, trying to avoid the walking corpses that sprouted from the ground at random. Rick shot at least a dozen more of the creatures and several more ended up beneath the wheels of the car. Philippa realized she had been clinging to Rick's arm and took comfort in his presence, desperate to believe that nothing would happen to her as long as Rick was nearby. She wished she could have bonded with him in less drastic circumstances.

They drew closer to the docks, where the largest number of corpses swarmed, and Rick shot two creatures that shuffled dangerously close to the car. "Where's Beni at?" Philippa wondered out loud.

"Probably on that barge over there," said Jonathan. He took one hand off the steering wheel and pointed to the barge, the same one they had traveled on earlier. Philippa squinted in the bright sunlight and saw Beni standing on the deck, unmistakable in his red fez, but he soon scampered out of her sight.

"Now what do we do?" Evelyn groaned. "The boat is sailing away!"

"We can either swim or get eaten," said Rick. He reloaded his gun and shot another corpse. "Anyone got any better ideas?"

"I have a rowboat," said Ardeth. "We will have to run down to the river. Once we are on the water, the creatures will not follow us."

Philippa noticed that the corpses avoided the river, as if afraid their rotting flesh and bones would melt if they hit the water. "How far is the rowboat?" she asked.

"Not far, if we hurry," said Ardeth. "Follow me!"

The time for doubt and skepticism had vanished long ago. Before setting eyes on the living dead, Philippa would have scoffed at the idea of following a madman into his rowboat, but she had seen horrors that would haunt her dreams at night. She leaped out of the car and sprinted after Ardeth, closely followed by Rick, Jonathan, and Evelyn, who carried the gold book in her arms. The rowboat was situated a safe distance from the docks, though they couldn't escape the endless racket of screams and gunshots, and Philippa was the first one to reach the safety of its wooden sanctuary. She scrambled into the boat, not caring that her stocking tore when it caught on the wood, and waited with wide eyes as her companions jumped in after her.

"Ardeth, watch out!" Evelyn cried.

Ardeth, who had stayed behind to push the boat into the river, drew his blade as a couple of corpses approached him from behind, groaning incoherently through their rotting, misshapen mouths. One of them grabbed Ardeth and tried to bite his ear, but Ardeth hacked it apart just in time and kicked it aside. Rick shot the second corpse, halting it before it could take another step.

"Disgusting buggers, they are," Jonathan remarked as he stared at the bodies. "And I thought the warden was bad."

Ardeth stood at the edge of the river, gazing into the boat with a strange expression on his face. "Aren't you getting in?" said Philippa.

Instead Ardeth pulled up the sleeve of his robe, revealing deep fingernail marks on his forearm. "I've been scratched."

"So?"

"I will become one of the living dead within the hour. You must go on without me!" Before any of them could protest, Ardeth gave the boat a hard push into the water. "Get the Book of the Dead at all costs!"

Rick's face was grim as he grabbed an oar and started to row. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starting to believe in all this curse stuff."

All four of them—including Jonathan, though he tried to make excuses about weak arms and poor health—paddled down the river in pursuit of the barge that grew further away by the minute. Philippa's arms were burning by the time they caught up to the barge and she felt ready to collapse into the river when a flash of red caught her eye.

"Beni!" Philippa called out. "Hey, Beni!"

They weren't close enough to climb aboard the barge yet, but they were definitely close enough to converse with the passengers and Philippa shouted Beni's name a third time. Beni rushed up to the edge of the deck and leaned over the railing, his mouth falling open in surprise when he saw her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What the hell are _you_ doing here, Beni?" said Rick. "What's the deal, huh?"

"I am being paid a lot of money to go back to Hamunaptra," Beni said smugly. "It is a very good deal, if you ask me."

"Where's that key you stole from me?" said Philippa.

"What key?"

"You know what key. The one that opens the book you also stole."

Beni smirked and didn't reply.

"Maybe I can refresh his memory," said Rick. He pulled out his gun and aimed the barrel at Beni's head. "Mind tossing that key down here?"

"I don't have it, I swear!" Beni whimpered, gazing down at Rick with big, terrified eyes. " _She_ has got it."

"Who's this she?" said Evelyn.

"Beni?"

A new voice entered the conversation, a female voice that sent prickles up Philippa's spine. "Beni, who are you talking to?"

"Nobody!" said Beni, still whimpering.

"You're talking to someone. Who's out there?"

A woman soon appeared next to Beni, her heeled boots clacking on the wooden deck as she approached the railing. "Visitors?" she said, peering out at the rowboat. "It can't be those meddling Med-Jai. I've kept them busy for quite a while."

"Excuse me," said Evelyn, addressing the woman. "But are you the one responsible for those... those _corpses_ that are running loose?"

The woman's calm, cold expression changed when she noticed Evelyn, and her eyes burned with recognition. "Nefertiri."

Evelyn looked dazed as she stared back at the stranger. "I think she knows me."


	22. Black and Gold

"Nefertiri," said the dark-haired woman who stood on the barge. She smirked as she beckoned to Evelyn. "It has been too long. Why don't you come aboard?"

Everyone had their eyes fixed on this strange, mysterious woman, but Philippa was watching Beni. He maintained a safe distance from the woman and seemed more fidgety than usual, his eyes constantly darting to Rick, who had lowered his gun and focused on rowing their little boat so they could keep up with the barge. "Forget about them, Meela," Beni whined. "We do not need these people."

"Meela," Evelyn murmured to herself, picking up on the name. "I don't _know_ a Meela."

"Well clearly she thinks you do, old mum," said Jonathan. "Might as well humor her and make polite chit-chat, eh?"

"You don't remember," said Meela, still smirking at Evelyn. "What a pity."

"Come on, Meela," Beni pleaded. "I don't want to talk to them."

Meela silenced him with a look and Beni took a step backwards, still looking nervous. Philippa tried to catch his eye, but she suspected he was purposely avoiding her gaze, since he refused to look towards her end of the rowboat. She found it strange that Beni, who usually showed contempt for all women, would obey Meela without a fuss and she continued to watch his face, noticing how fearfully he glanced at Meela.

"Who exactly _are_ you?" said Evelyn, watching Meela with an expression similar to Beni's. "And why do you call me Nefertiri?"

"Come aboard and I'll tell you," said Meela. "Beni, help them onto the boat."

"But I do not have the strength to—"

" _Beni._ "

Once again Beni was silenced by a woman. Evelyn, who had kept the gold book in an inconspicuous spot on her lap, could no longer hide it when she stood up in the rowboat with the book clasped in her arms, and Beni's mouth dropped open when he saw the solid gold gleaming in the sunlight.

"What is that?" Meela demanded.

"It's only a book," said Evelyn, meeting Meela's eyes boldly. "I believe you have one as well."

"Yes." Meela had composed herself, her calm smirk back in place. "It appears we have a mutual interest in ancient artifacts. Beni, be a gentleman for once in your life and show this woman aboard already."

"Careful, Evelyn," Rick warned under his breath. "I don't trust her."

"I don't either," Evelyn whispered back. "But we have to get the key."

Beni stood at the edge of the barge and reached out to help Evelyn aboard, his greedy eyes fixed upon the gold book. One of his hands slid towards the book and attempted to caress its shiny cover, but Evelyn shot him a look of disgust and batted his hand away. Meela also kept her eyes fixed on the book, but her expression was much different from Beni's; Philippa wasn't sure why, but she could have sworn she saw a flash of hatred in her eyes as Evelyn brought the book on board.

Philippa had a bad feeling about this whole situation, but they were running out of time. Who knew how many people had been destroyed by the living dead by now? "I'll go next," she said, striving to keep her voice from shaking. "Are you gonna help me on board, Beni?"

"Do it, Beni," said Meela. "And hurry up."

Beni scowled at Philippa and reluctantly took her by the wrist, pulling her onto the barge. Philippa looked into his face and tried to find answers in his cold eyes, but he was more closed-off than ever. "Didn't think you'd see me again, did you?" she said softly.

Beni said nothing and shoved her onto the deck of the barge, where she stumbled and almost knocked into Evelyn. Meela stood some distance away, watching them all with a face as blank as stone, and silently waited, though Philippa couldn't guess what she was waiting for. Jonathan scrambled onto the barge and hurried to Evelyn's side, his gazed fixated on the book rather than his sister, which left Rick as the last person in the rowboat.

"Will you be joining us?" Meela asked Rick. "I won't object to leaving you behind, but I have a feeling you'll prove to have your uses if you come aboard."

Rick looked at Evelyn, then Jonathan, and finally Philippa, his face unreadable. "I'm coming along," he said. He climbed aboard the barge without any assistance and made a beeline for Beni, grabbing him with both hands so he could slam him against the nearest table. Beni shrieked with pain. "All right, Beni," said Rick. "What's going on here?"

"Release him." Meela pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Rick, her dark eyes colder than ever.

"You heard her, O'Connell," said Beni, gazing up at Rick with wide eyes. "You cannot argue with a woman."

"No," said Rick. "I can do better." Keeping one hand on Beni, he grabbed his gun with the other hand and pointed it at Meela. "If you shoot, I shoot."

Beni took advantage of Rick's one-handed hold on him and pulled out his own pistol. "And if you shoot her, then I will return the favor, O'Connell."

"What do _you_ care if I shoot her or not?" Rick said skeptically.

"She cannot pay me if she's dead."

"Bloody hell," Jonathan muttered. "Might as well chip in." He reached a hand into his pocket and produced the tiniest gun Philippa had ever seen, then aimed it at Beni's head. It would have been comical if it wasn't for the fact that four people on the boat were armed, ready to kill each other at the slightest provocation.

"Oh, dear," said Evelyn, watching the scene unfold in horror. "This is absurd."

Philippa agreed. She looked frantically around the deck, hoping to locate the black book and the key, but they were nowhere to be found. "Why are you going to Hamunaptra?" she said, addressing Meela with reckless desperation. "There's nothing but sand and bugs at Hamunaptra."

Meela kept her eyes on the gun in Rick's hand. "That is no business of yours."

"She wants to bring back some guy named Imhotep," said Beni, still in Rick's grasp.

"Shut your mouth," Meela told him.

"I hoped O'Connell would let me go if I told," Beni whined, looking at Rick pleadingly. "It seems I was mistaken."

"Imhotep," Evelyn echoed. "That's the man who was buried at Hamunaptra three thousand years ago, the one who was placed under a terrible curse. You plan to raise him back to life with the Book of the Dead, don't you?"

"You were always clever, Nefertiri," Meela said with a cold little smirk. "I am Anck-Su-Namun reborn, and when Imhotep walks this earth again I will be his queen."

They were on board with a madwoman, yet Philippa didn't laugh. She _couldn't_ laugh, not after seeing a walking corpse take a bite out of an innocent man. Not after everyone decided to pull out their weapons and aim at each other.

"It is a pity we're in this little mess of ours," Meela continued, addressing Rick. "I was hoping to recruit you as my new guide and toss Beni to the crocodiles. You've clearly been to Hamunaptra."

"Yeah, well I'm not going back," said Rick. He never relaxed his grip on the gun, keeping it aimed at Meela's chest. "Where's the Book of the Dead?"

"Somewhere on this boat," Meela said evasively. "Does it matter?"

"Yeah, it matters a lot. We need that book."

"What for?"

"Well, to stop that great horrid crowd of the living dead, for starters," said Jonathan.

Meela was silent for the longest time, her lips pressed into a thin line as she stood there watching them all, the pistol clutched in her hand. "I'm willing to make you a deal," she said at last. Her eyes flicked over to Evelyn and rested upon the gold book. "I'll trade books with you. The Book of the Dead in exchange for the Book of Amun-Ra."

"You'll give us the key as well," said Evelyn, watching her carefully.

"Fine. I'll let you have the key."

"You're not seriously thinking of trading, are you?" said Philippa, staring at Evelyn in disbelief. "You'll be giving away a fortune!"

"Not to mention your life's pursuit," said Jonathan. "Really now, Evy, think carefully here."

"I am," said Evelyn. "And I've made my decision. I'd like to make the trade."

Jonathan groaned, but Meela smiled. Not a mysterious smirk that didn't meet her eyes, but an actual smile, and it unnerved Philippa more than anything. "Wonderful," said Meela.

"On one condition," Evelyn added. "You must allow us to open the Book of Amun-Ra and banish the living dead _before_ we make the trade."

"Very well. I have no further use for those monsters." Meela turned to Rick. "Now if you'd be kind enough to release Beni, we can make our exchange. He's going to fetch the Book of the Dead for me."

"Why should I?" Beni dared to ask.

"Because I'll let your friend put a bullet through your head if you don't. Now... O'Connell, was it? Let him go."

Rick eyed Meela warily, keeping his gun hand in the same position, and released Beni. Beni immediately scampered away from Rick, obvious relief in his eyes, and hovered close to Meela. He kept sneaking glances at Evelyn and the gold book.

"Here." Using her free hand, Meela produced a small brass key and tossed it to Beni. "Bring me the Book of the Dead and the key that comes with it. And be quick."

"Wait," Philippa spoke up. She felt everyone's eyes on her and swallowed her last bit of pride. "I'll go with him. To make sure we aren't getting cheated."

"Oh, come _on_ ," said Beni.

"It's only fair, isn't it?" said Philippa.

"Go," Meela told Philippa, too impatient to argue. "Hurry up."

She knew everyone was staring at her as she followed a scowling, reluctant Beni across the deck, but Philippa refused to look over her shoulder. It would only give her the need to explain her actions, which she couldn't possibly do when she didn't understand them herself.

"Why are you helping a woman like that?" she murmured to Beni as they walked out of earshot. "She's clearly a bad egg."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Beni grumbled.

"She's no good, I mean."

"Yes, but she is rich, and that is all that matters."

They reached the cabins, the same exact ones that Philippa and Rick and the others had slept in just hours before. This same exact barge had carried them away from Hamunaptra, towards civilization and hope, and now they were on a journey whose end Philippa couldn't see. It was enough to make her wish she had never left New York. Beni pretended she wasn't there as he unlocked one of the cabins and he tried to slam the door in her face after he slipped inside, but Philippa caught it just in time and followed him into the room.

"What do you want from me?" Beni complained. "I thought you did not want to see me again."

"I want an apology," said Philippa.

"What the hell for?"

"For all the times you used me."

"Fine, I am sorry, okay? Now let me get the book."

The Book of the Dead sat upon a table in the middle of the room, the key resting on top of its cover, and Beni snatched up both of these items, sneaking furtive glances over his shoulder. He was so pathetic, so desperate to do anything to ensure his own survival, and Philippa knew he would gladly stab her in the back—both literally and figuratively—if it meant he could get ahead in life.

"Beni, you can't go to Hamunaptra," said Philippa, putting a hand on his arm.

He shook her off. "Yes, I can. When I return to Cairo I will be rich."

"You'll be dead, probably. That Imhotep fellow had a curse put on him; the most terrible curse that existed in ancient Egypt."

Fear flickered in Beni's eyes. He believed her. "That woman who is with you mentioned a curse," he said slowly.

"Anyway, I doubt you'll get your money whether you side with Meela or not. She's planning to throw you overboard, remember? She doesn't need you now that she's got us to show her the way."

"Oh, who cares if Meela goes to Hamunaptra?" said Beni. "She cannot raise Imhotep if she is giving the book to you guys."

"I don't trust her. If she wants to raise Imhotep, she'll find a way. We've gotta keep her away from Hamunaptra, Beni."

Beni clutched the book tightly to his chest, displaying the same old selfishness. "What is this we? Why don't you shut up already and start walking? I do not want to piss Meela off."

"How did you meet her anyway?" Philippa asked as she followed him out of the cabin.

"It is a long story," Beni replied.

Philippa didn't get a chance to question him further because they returned to Meela and the others. Everyone still had their guns in hand and Meela had just finished saying something to a bewildered-looking Evelyn, though Philippa didn't catch what it was. "Ah, there you are," said Meela, turning to Beni. "Now we can begin. But first, weapons away." She lowered her gun and gave a stern look to Rick and Jonathan, who soon did the same.

"The key first," Evelyn reminded Meela.

"Give them the key," Meela told Beni.

Beni scowled and handed the key to Philippa, who gave it to Evelyn. Moving quickly, Evelyn opened the gold book and studied its contents, her brow furrowed as she perused rows of symbols that looked like strange little pictures to Philippa. Quite a few of them resembled birds and other animals.

"Have you got it, Evy?" said Jonathan, unable to disguise his anxiety.

"Just a moment..." Evelyn murmured. Her eyes lit up as she found the symbols she wanted. "Aha! This ought to stop those monsters." She read from the book out loud, speaking in a language Philippa had never heard before, and shut the book with a triumphant snap when she was finished.

"Congratulations," Meela said coolly. "Now let me have the Book of Amun-Ra."

Evelyn hesitated, staring down at the slab of gold she held in her arms. "Isn't there some other way we can—"

" _Or_ I can fire a bullet into O'Connell here," said Meela. "That would be a tragedy, wouldn't it?"

Rick said nothing, his eyes locked on Meela's face.

"The book is yours," said Evelyn. She moved across the deck and passed the gold book to Meela, who immediately tossed the book into the river.

"Oops," she said as the heavy gold made a splash into the water. "How clumsy of me."

"You've just thrown a fortune away!" Jonathan cried, staring at the river in horror. "What the devil is the matter with you?"

"Why, you scheming, conniving—" Evelyn stamped her foot, too upset to finish her sentence.

"I'm going in after it," said Jonathan. He stuffed his tiny gun into his pocket and ran towards the boat railing, but he didn't get far. Meela promptly took her pistol and shot him in the leg, causing Jonathan to cry out and crumple to the deck, a patch of dark red blood staining his trousers.

"Hey!" said Rick, pointing his gun back at Meela. "What's your game here?"

"The Book of Amun-Ra is the only thing that can stop Imhotep," Meela replied. "So I disposed of it."

Philippa was frozen in shock, unable to tear her gaze from Jonathan crumpled on the deck, his face contorted in pain. Evelyn ran to him and put her arms around her brother, running the risk of getting shot herself, but Meela appeared to have lost interest in her. "Beni, take the Book of the Dead back to my cabin," she ordered.

Beni hovered a couple of steps behind Meela, outrage etched on his face as he stared at the river, where the Book of Amun-Ra had sunk. The black book still clutched in his arms, he gave Meela a vicious kick in the back of the shin and sent her toppling to the deck. The gun fell out of her hand and Rick immediately snatched it up.

"Well," said Rick, standing over Meela with a gun in each hand. "Who wants to fetch some rope?"


	23. Aftermath

Philippa was alone on deck with Rick and Beni, still numb from the shock of everything that had happened. Meela, proud and resistant as ever, had to be knocked unconscious so that Rick could tie her up and lock her in one of the cabins, and Philippa was grateful for the hot sun that blared overhead and chased away the chills Meela had given her. Evelyn was in another cabin, taking care of Jonathan's gunshot wound to the best of her abilities, which left Philippa to stand uncomfortably on deck with Beni, who clutched the Book of the Dead to his chest with greedy hands, and Rick, who looked restless now that he had taken care of Meela and ordered the barge captain to take them back to the port.

"What are you going to do when we return to Cairo?" said Beni, watching Rick warily.

"I'm not gonna kill you, if that's what you're worried about," said Rick. "Or take that book away," he added, noticing Beni's protective grip on the Book of the Dead.

"Good." Beni cracked a smug little smile. "It is mine now."

"Try telling that to Evelyn," Rick muttered under his breath.

Philippa caught Beni sneaking a glance at her and met his eyes, locking gazes with him until he frowned and looked away. He may have been acting from his own selfish instincts, but he had helped defeat Meela in his own way, and Philippa couldn't be angry with him for joining up with Meela and causing this mess in the first place. She was much too tired for anger. She took a couple of steps towards Beni, moving slowly so she wouldn't startle him, and looked into his eyes again.

"We're on the same side now, Beni," she said. "I think you owe us an explanation about Meela."

"I do not owe you anything," said Beni. His eyes darted from Philippa to Rick and he grew tense, ready to run. "And I am on nobody's side."

"We just want answers, Beni," said Rick. "How did you run into Meela?"

"All right, all right. I will tell you," Beni said with a sigh. Philippa had a feeling she wasn't the only one who was weary. "I was in a bar with those three American idiots, trying to make a deal with them. Meela was in the bar too and she overheard us. She did not have the decency to interfere and tell the Americans to give me a better deal, so I got stuck getting paid half then and half later." Beni paused, his eyes widening in realization, and he spat upon the deck. "Those bastards still have not paid me the other half."

"What about Meela?" said Rick.

"Oh, yes. She approached me after the Americans left. She said she wanted to go to Hamunaptra, but she would not waste her time and money until she knew for sure that I could take her there. I don't understand why everyone has such a hard time trusting me. I am not _always_ a liar."

"Just most of the time," said Philippa.

Beni ignored her and continued. "So then she told me she wanted proof that I could show her the way. I brought her this black book, along with the key, and she promised to give me a lot of money if I took her to Hamunaptra right away, so we got on this boat. And that is all."

That was all. They were headed back to Cairo for the second time that day and Philippa had seen enough action to last her for a lifetime. Exhausted, she sank into the nearest chair she could find and watched the Nile ripple by as it carried them closer and closer to the port. She just hoped that the words Evelyn read from the Book of Amun-Ra were the correct ones, or else they were doomed. What if they returned to Cairo and found everyone either dead or transformed into walking corpses?

The sound of heels clopping upon the deck dragged her from her thoughts and she turned to see Evelyn returning from the cabins, peering out at the river to see how far they had come. "We're nearly there," she remarked.

"How's Jonathan?" said Philippa.

"He needs a doctor, but he'll live despite all his moaning," said Evelyn. "Now where on earth did that Beni fellow get off to?"

Rick had also been watching the river and realized that Beni had disappeared sometime in the last few seconds. "He couldn't have gone far."

"Yeah, but he still has the Book of the Dead," said Philippa.

"Well he isn't going to keep it," said Evelyn. "We'll have to find some way to make him give it up."

Evelyn may have had the key, but Philippa didn't like the idea of Beni running off with the book a second time. He could—and probably would—find a way to cause trouble if he was allowed to run free with the book in his possession, and there was no telling who he might give it to next for the promise of wealth. "What could we possibly give Beni in exchange for the Book of the Dead?" she asked.

"We'll buy it from him," said Evelyn. "He's bound to sell it anyway."

"We've gotta find him first," Rick reminded them. "The moment this boat reaches land he'll hightail it out of here." He glanced at Philippa. "I think it's best if _I_ look for him."

His meaning was clear to Philippa. He didn't trust her to make a deal with Beni without getting into bed with him or giving him an accidental advantage. She didn't trust herself either.

She watched Rick stride away and remained in her seat, keeping her face tilted towards the deck so the sun wouldn't burn her face anymore than it already had in the last several days. She nearly dozed off in the heat and forgot that Evelyn was still standing on the deck until Evelyn shook her gently by the shoulder and murmured, "We're here."

"Swell," said Philippa, blinking sleepily in the everlasting sunlight. "Did Rick ever find Beni?"

"No," said Rick, appearing just in time to hear her question. "He's a champion at hide-and-seek, I'll give him that."

"What about Meela? What do we do with her?"

"Hand her over to the cops, I guess. Let _them_ deal with her."

Evelyn returned to the cabins to fetch Jonathan and Philippa tagged along, forcing herself to brighten up for Jonathan's sake. He was sitting up in bed, his face unusually pale and tired, and took a long swig from a flask he pulled out of his jacket pocket. "Good thing I stocked up on brandy before that Ardeth fellow dragged us into this mess, eh, Philippa?" he said. His smile was strained, but still a smile.

Philippa nodded and tried not to look at his wounded leg.

"Why, the Americans are a pack of blithering idiots for banning liquor," Jonathan continued as Evelyn helped him out of bed. "Not all of you, of course. Just the ones who enjoy putting a damper on a good time."

"That's why we have speakeasies," Philippa said with a wink. "I'll take you to one if you ever have a mind to visit New York."

Jonathan winced as he put both feet on the ground, but he quickly covered it up with another strained smile. "I'd like that," he said. "I'd like that very much."

"And where would we get the money to visit New York?" Evelyn asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Fish that gold book out of the river. Sell off all our dreary old furniture. Something is bound to turn a profit."

"We'll worry about that later. Right now I want to make sure you can walk without fainting."

Evelyn and Philippa had to walk on either side of Jonathan, each one holding him by the arm, but they managed to get him out of the cabin and across the deck, where Rick stood waiting for them. Meela was still tied up and locked in her own cabin, imprisoned until somebody came to collect her, but Philippa wasn't concerned about Meela's fate. She had her eyes open for Beni, hoping to see his red fez and nervous eyes, or even that smug little smirk he wore whenever somebody met with misfortune.

The first thing Philippa noticed as she walked down the gangway was the crowd of dangerous looking men—the same ones who were in league with Ardeth, unmistakeable in their identical black robes—that swarmed around the river's edge. Ardeth stood among them, looking healthy and well, though he kept one of his hands tucked into his robes. "You have succeeded," he said as soon as Rick and the others were within speaking distance. "The living dead are gone and the Book of the Dead is in our control."

"Actually, we kind of lost the book," said Rick. "Our friend Beni—"

"Is with us," Ardeth broke in. Still keeping one hand in his robes, he gestured with the other hand towards a couple of his men standing off in the distance. The two of them held a squirming Beni in their grasp, while a third man held the Book of the Dead. "We were careful not to let him escape this time," Ardeth explained. "He is quick, but not quick enough for those who are prepared."

"Marvelous," said Evelyn. "If you'll just hand us the book, we'll—"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Ardeth interrupted again. "The book must be returned to Hamunaptra and buried once more."

"How come?" said Philippa. "We stopped that Meela woman and locked her in a cabin. There's nothing to worry about anymore."

"You do not understand the evil that book is capable of," said Ardeth.

"As much as I enjoy standing around and chatting all day, I _am_ still wounded here," said Jonathan. "You know, the whole bullet wound and everything. Just in case you forgot."

"Why don't we all find someplace to sit down and talk?" said Rick.

Ardeth's eyes dropped down to Jonathan's trouser leg, which looked bloodier than ever, and his stern features softened a bit. "Where is the woman you were pursuing?" he asked.

"We tied her up and locked her in a cabin," said Rick.

"Good. If you give me the key, my people will take care of her. What would you like us to do with your friend in the red hat?"

Beni continued to struggle in the firm grip of his captors, and Philippa may have been too far away to see his face clearly, but she could imagine his look of wide-eyed desperation. "Let him go," she said. "He can't do any more mischief."

"You agree with this?" Ardeth asked Rick.

"Yeah," said Rick, with another glance at Philippa that touched the tiny bit of shame she still had left. "Let him go."

Ardeth ordered something in Arabic and his people released Beni, who immediately took off running and disappeared. He didn't spare a backward glance at Philippa or anyone else.

"Let's find my car, shall we?" said Jonathan. "This leg is bloody killing me."

Once the key to Meela's cabin was passed on to a couple of Ardeth's men, they all walked—or limped, in Jonathan's case—to the edge of the river where the car had been left. Everywhere Philippa looked she saw people burying the dead and carting off the wounded, cleaning up the aftermath of the living dead's invasion, and she gagged each time they walked past a corpse that hadn't been disposed of yet. If the Book of the Dead could cause an evil greater than this, then she didn't mind the idea of someone burying it.

Rick took the steering wheel, since Jonathan was in no shape to drive, and Philippa was squeezed between Ardeth and Evelyn in the back. She had forgotten about the long scratches on Ardeth's forearm, courtesy of the living dead, until he got into the backseat and sat right beside her, and she shivered. "So what happened after we left you?" she asked him. "You said you would turn into one of those corpses."

"I did say that," Ardeth replied. "Fortunately you removed the curse before the transformation was complete."

"So you're all right, then."

"Not entirely." Ardeth withdraw his hand from within his robes, only there wasn't a hand at all. His arm stopped at the wrist and his skin looked gray at the very edge, where his hand should have been. "An unfortunate side effect of the curse." He quickly tucked his deformity under the fold of his robes, hiding it once more.

Philippa was silent throughout the remaining drive to the Carnahan home. When she first arrived in Egypt she imagined all the long, exciting letters she would write to her friends, but the idea of writing letters was laughable now. Nobody at home would believe her. She hardly believed it herself and kept hoping it was all a fantasy caused by too much desert sun, and that she would awake soon, but common sense told her that such wishing was foolish. Philippa had learned the hard way that common sense shouldn't be ignored.

As soon as they arrived at the Carnahan home, Evelyn put Jonathan to bed and summoned a doctor, leaving Rick and Philippa to tell Ardeth the story of what happened on the barge. "What's going to happen to the gold book?" said Philippa. "We can't leave something that valuable sitting around at the bottom of a river."

"Do not worry about the Book of Amun-Ra," said Ardeth. "My people will take care of it."

Just like they were taking care of Meela and the Book of the Dead. It was hard to believe that these were the same people who had attacked them just days before.

"If you give me the key, I will set out for Hamunaptra with a few of my men right away," said Ardeth. "We will make sure that the Book of the Dead remains untouched, hopefully for another three thousand years at least."

"It's all yours," said Rick. "I'm done with Hamunaptra."

"Same here," said Philippa. "It's too bad we never found any treasure, though. All that work for nothing."

Ardeth was silent for a long moment, watching them with his dark eyes. "Wait here until I return," he said at last. "You will be rewarded for your trouble."

And that was all he would say on the matter.


	24. The Final Farewell

Five days had passed since Ardeth left for Hamunaptra and Philippa spent most of her time indoors, reading from Evelyn's library and entertaining Jonathan while he recovered from his gunshot wound. Five days of hot baths, full meals, and a comfortable bed should have been enough to satisfy her, but Philippa was growing restless. She was afraid that a life of complete leisure didn't agree with her anymore. Rick was the same as ever, just as uncomfortable with the Carnahans' hospitality as he was the day they arrived, and Philippa knew he couldn't wait to get out from under their roof. He didn't put it into words, but Philippa could tell by the way he paced from room to room, unable to settle down.

By the end of the fifth day Jonathan was restless as well and begged Evelyn to let him go out that evening. Evelyn could find no reason to refuse him, since his wound was healing nicely and he only walked with a slight limp, and Philippa was delighted when he invited her to join him. It had been ages since she had any entertainment and she eagerly hopped into the passenger seat of Jonathan's car.

"So where are we headed?" she asked as Jonathan started the engine.

"Oh, just a little place I visit from time to time," said Jonathan. "I believe we're both long overdue for a night of revelry, don't you agree?"

"Yeah," said Philippa. She turned silent, remembering the news they learned just yesterday.

The prison warden lost his life to the living dead a few days before, along with Dr. Chamberlain and Mr. Henderson. According to Burns and Daniels, a man dressed in black took the set of jars that Chamberlain brought back from Hamunaptra, and Philippa supposed that Ardeth was determined to undo all of their work, right down to the last details. Jonathan parked the car in front of a building that looked vaguely familiar, but Philippa couldn't place it until she got out of the car and walked inside, taking care to keep pace with Jonathan's limp.

"Oh!" she said as they entered the bar. "It's the same little joint I met you in when I first started looking for Rick. Boy, this brings back memories."

How innocent she was back then. She actually thought Egypt would be _fun_.

"Good memories, I hope," said Jonathan. He steered her over to the bar counter and winced a little when he sat down on a stool, but otherwise looked in perfect health. "Now what'll it be, Philippa? Scotch again, or something else?"

Philippa didn't answer. She thought she saw something when she and Jonathan headed over to the bar; something red and familiar, but of course it could be a coincidence. Plenty of people in Cairo wore red fezzes. Still, she couldn't rest until she knew for sure and turned around in her seat, searching the small crowd of people for—

There. He sat alone in a back corner, the usual shifty expression on his face as he took furtive sips from the glass in his hand. The old familiar pity came back to haunt Philippa and she kept her eyes fixed on Beni, watching him sit there in his quiet corner, sipping a drink that he probably didn't enjoy when he constantly expected trouble. She doubted he ever enjoyed anything when he lived such a life, always looking over his shoulder as if the whole world wanted to condemn him.

"Philippa?" said Jonathan. "Did you hear me?"

"I, uh, have to take care of something really quick," said Philippa, sliding off her bar stool. "I'll be back."

"Philippa, wait. What are you—"

But Philippa kept moving, walking across the bar until Jonathan's voice faded into nothing. Back in New York, before her old life became a memory, she would have never allowed herself to be seen in public with a man like Beni, but this wasn't New York. Her old life was gone. Philippa approached Beni's table and boldly sat across from him, watching his shifty expression turn into disbelief, which quickly turned to disdain.

"It is _you_ ," he said with a sneer. "I thought you would be on your way to America."

"America can wait," said Philippa.

He continued to look at her as if she were trash, his eyes colder than ever. "Are you happy now? I have got nothing."

"We've all got nothing, darling. No need to pity yourself."

"Of course you don't have nothing. A girl like you will never have nothing."

Philippa fought down a fresh wave of pity and covered it with a smile. "And what do you know about girls like me, Beni?"

"I know enough. Why are you here?"

"If you knew enough, then you wouldn't have to ask me that."

Beni let out a whiny little sigh and glared at her, though his glare seemed half-hearted. "Why don't you go back to America where you belong? I thought I could get some peace around here."

"Will you miss me when I leave?"

"Of course I will not miss you. Why the hell would I miss you?"

"Because this is goodbye. I've had enough of Egypt."

Beni scoffed at her. "Like America is so much better. You can't even drink there."

"Of course we can drink there," Philippa said with a sly smile at Beni. "We get liquor from good old Canada, our neighbor up above, and then it ends up in the speakeasies."

"What are speakeasies?"

"Illegal bars. There's a lot of money in bootleg liquor, you know. You get into that business, it's almost as good as finding treasure in the desert."

Beni's eyes lit up at the mention of money. "Maybe America is not so bad. But it does not change the fact that Americans are a pain in the ass."

"Hungarians are a pain in the ass too," said Philippa. "I ought to know that better than anyone."

"Then why did you come here? Nobody is forcing you to talk to me."

He was right. Philippa didn't have to double-check and see if the red fez belonged to Beni. She didn't have to approach his table and engage him in conversation. Jonathan probably thought she was crazy for rushing off to talk to the likes of Beni and she looked over her shoulder, expecting Jonathan to be gone, but he remained right where she left him, looking bored as he drank alone.

Beni followed her gaze and smirked. "I see. You would rather talk to me than spend time with your stupid Englishman. I am honored."

"That's not how it is," said Philippa. "You don't understand."

"I think I do. Once you start to go slumming, as they say, you cannot stop."

"Goodbye, Beni," Philippa said quietly.

Beni's sudden cockiness started to fade. "What was that?"

"I said goodbye, Beni. This is the last time you'll see me before I go back to America." Philippa managed a weak smile. "And I like to think that you'll miss me just a little bit when I'm gone."

Beni didn't speak as she got up from her chair and smoothed out her skirt. He just sat there and watched her warily, the same old suspicion returning to his eyes, as if he expected her to pull a weapon out of her handbag and attack him. "Goodbye," Philippa said again, then turned her back on Beni and headed back to the bar counter, where Jonathan was waiting for her to explain herself. Her steps started to falter as she drew closer to the counter. She didn't belong with Beni, but she really didn't belong with Jonathan either, and what could she possibly say when he asked her where she had gone? He would never understand.

Philippa forced herself to keep moving until she reached her bar stool and wordlessly sat back down, her eyes fixed upon a deep scratch somebody had made on the wooden counter. She didn't look up when Jonathan cleared his throat.

"So," he said in a tone that attempted to be light and conversational. "What was that all about, eh?"

Surely he must have seen who she had been with. Philippa raised her eyes to meet Jonathan's, but she saw no accusation there. "I was saying farewell to Beni," she said. "It was the least I could do."

"I don't think a miserable little chap like him cares about manners, love."

"No, he probably doesn't," said Philippa. "But I don't think many people bother to say goodbye to him either. Most of them probably just disappear on him. Anyway, it's all over now and I won't be seeing him again." She glanced over her shoulder, just to see if Beni had lingered at his table, but he was gone. Just as she expected.

"Well, that's good to hear," said Jonathan. He picked up his glass and drained the last of its contents in a single gulp, then turned his friendly, carefree smile upon Philippa. "Now let's have a proper night out, shall we?"

Philippa smiled back and ordered a glass of scotch.

A few days later, Ardeth returned to Cairo and gathered them all in the Carnahans' parlor to inform them that the two ancient books, the key, and the set of jars had all been buried at Hamunaptra. He still kept his missing hand hidden, though his dark, tattooed face looked less strained than it had the last time Philippa saw him. "It is all over," he said solemnly. "The Creature will remain undisturbed."

"Wait just a minute here," said Jonathan. He looked unusually thoughtful. "We know how to find Hamunaptra. What's going to stop us from waltzing back in there and digging everything up?"

"Yeah," said Rick. "Beni will go sneaking back the first chance he gets."

"You think I have not considered that already?" said Ardeth. "There is a lever in Hamunaptra that will sink the city once it is pulled. Hamunaptra is no more."

"It figures he would know about the bloody lever," Jonathan muttered.

"It's such a pity, though," said Evelyn. "All that history, sunk underground."

Rick shared none of Jonathan and Evelyn's feelings of regret; instead he stared at Ardeth. "Why didn't you guys sink the city ages ago?"

"We could have avoided this whole mess," Philippa added. "And you wouldn't have lost a hand."

Ardeth didn't look pleased with Rick's question. "I have no answer to that. But as promised, here is payment for all the trouble you have gone through." He picked up a heavy-looking sack that sat at his feet and passed it over to Rick. Rick took one peek into the sack and whistled.

"Where the hell did you get this?" he asked.

"Hamunaptra's treasure chamber," Ardeth replied.

"Treasure chamber?" Jonathan exclaimed. "You mean there was a _treasure chamber_ right under our noses the entire time we were at that godforsaken city?"

Ardeth's lips curved into a reserved smile. "Yes."

"Well what are we waiting for? Empty that sack, O'Connell!"

Philippa drew closer to Rick, eager to see what Ardeth had brought them, and watched in amazement as Rick pulled out at least a dozen pieces of treasure and laid them upon the table that sat in the parlor. Every piece was made of gold, even more dazzling than the Book of Amun-Ra, and Philippa could only stare in awe, too afraid to touch such exquisite beauty. "Looks like we've got our fortune back," she said.

"Why, Ardeth, we can't possibly accept all of this," said Evelyn.

"Hush, Evy. Of course we can!" said Jonathan.

"I have no use for Hamunaptra's treasure," said Ardeth. "I hope that if we meet again, it is under more favorable circumstances." He left them alone with the gold, disappearing as swiftly as he had arrived, and nobody said a word until Jonathan snatched up a thick necklace and cried:

"Would you look at that? Those are _real_ emeralds! How much do you think a piece like this would fetch?"

"You're not going to just sell it on the market to whoever offers the most money," said Evelyn, taking the necklace from Jonathan's hands. "We're going to take it to the museum first, and if they're willing to pay us for the whole lot, well... we certainly won't turn them down." She glanced at Rick and flashed an embarrassed smile. "Of course, that's only after Rick and Philippa take their share of the treasure first."

"Don't worry about it," said Rick. "I don't want any."

"Smashing!" said Jonathan, grinning as he picked up a goblet. "More for me."

"Surely _you_ would like to take your share, Philippa," said Evelyn. "Go on, now. Pick out whatever you like before Jonathan stakes his claim."

A bracelet caught Philippa's eye and she took it off the table to study it closer. It was a solid gold cuff bracelet, studded with numerous small diamonds, and she immediately slid it onto her wrist. The gold was heavy, but she loved the way the diamonds caught the light and sparkled, like the diamond necklace she had seen in a shop window in New York, only a hundred times more grand. "It's marvelous," she said. "Can I really keep it?"

"It's all yours, my dear," said Jonathan. "I say, that _does_ look marvelous. We'll make an Egyptian princess of you yet."

But Philippa wasn't sure if she wanted to go about masquerading as a princess. Her old plan of sailing home in a heap of glory and riches seemed ridiculous now, after all she had seen. Instead she felt tired and homesick, starving for a glimpse of Manhattan's familiar streets, and she took a tiny step back from the treasure table. "Thank you, but this is all I want."

"Very well," said Evelyn. She hadn't touched any of the gold and looked from Philippa to Rick, absently fiddling with the locket she always wore around her neck. "I suppose the two of you will be on your way to America soon."

"Yeah. We are," said Rick, looking equally uncomfortable. "It's the right thing to do. Family duty and all. But, uh, you can come visit sometime. If you want to, I mean."

"That would be lovely," said Evelyn.

Rick cracked a nervous smile. "Great."

Philippa glanced down at the gold bracelet that sparkled upon her wrist, then took it off and held it in her hand, feeling the hard little diamonds press against her skin. No, she wasn't a princess. She was just a fool who stumbled upon a journey that was far out of her depth, and she was glad that journey was nearly over.

It was time to say goodbye to Egypt.


	25. Epilogue

"You sure you wanna do this?" said Rick.

Philippa had asked herself that question countless times over the last couple of hours, but she always settled upon the same answer. "Yes," she said. "I'm sure."

"Follow me, then."

Rick led the way into a neighborhood far different from the well-ordered street the Carnahans called home. The streets were darker in spite of the cloudless sky above and Philippa had to avoid garbage, stray animals, and people who sat huddled against the dilapidated buildings, living haunted lives of poverty and filth. An old man stood up to relieve himself in a cracked clay pot that sat on the street, completely oblivious to his surroundings, and Philippa averted her eyes and stuck close to Rick.

"How can people live like this?" she whispered.

"Some of them don't have a choice," Rick murmured.

It got worse as Rick took her further into the neighborhood. A couple of scrawny, hollow-eyed children came up and tugged on their clothes, babbling something in Arabic, and Philippa may not have understood the language but she knew they were begging. Rick pulled out a coin and wordlessly tossed it to the children, who took it and immediately scampered away.

"We can still turn back," said Rick.

"No," said Philippa. She had never been in such a poor neighborhood before, but she wasn't some pampered aristocrat who couldn't handle the sight of poverty. "I have to do this."

She continued to follow Rick, keeping an eye out for pickpockets or muggers, and breathed a sigh of relief when he told her they had reached the building. The apartment looked no better than all the other apartments in the neighborhood, with cracked walls and peeling doors, and Philippa was reminded of Rick's own apartment, with its cramped quarters, yellowed ceiling, and rickety furniture. Only Rick's building was cleaner than this one.

"You're sure this is where he lives?" Philippa asked.

"This is definitely where he lives," said Rick. "Second floor, first door on the right."

It was exactly where Philippa had expected a man like Beni Gabor to live. No wonder he was willing to do anything for money, no matter how unscrupulous. Philippa started to move forward, then halted and looked up at Rick. "Will you go up there with me?"

Not once had he called her crazy, though he probably thought she was nuts for concocting this whole idea. "Sure."

She walked with Rick to the second floor, her handbag swinging from one shoulder, and she grew bolder as they approached the first door on the right. She didn't know if Beni was home, but it didn't matter. She had already made her goodbyes.

"No chance of changing your mind, huh?" Rick said quietly, careful to keep his voice down. The walls were thin in a building like this.

Philippa reached into her handbag and pulled out the little box that had prompted this journey. "He needs it more than I do."

"Doesn't mean he deserves it."

Philippa ignored him and set the little box down on Beni's doorstep. The gold cuff bracelet decorated with diamonds was a fine treasure to have, but after she realized that she didn't want to keep it, Philippa put the bracelet in a box and asked Rick to find out where Beni lived. She knew it was crazy; she didn't owe Beni anything and he probably didn't deserve it, but she needed to let go of the strange relationship that had sprung up between them, and she couldn't think of a better way to do it.

She already felt like she could breathe easier as she set the box in front of Beni's door, like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders, and she finished her task by placing a simple note on top of the box: _To Beni Gabor._

A little something for the man who had nothing.

"You ready to go?" said Rick.

"Yes," said Philippa, taking him by the arm. "I'm finally ready."


End file.
